


There I Go

by invaderspotty



Series: V for Vendetta [1]
Category: V for Vendetta (2005)
Genre: Evey needs a hug, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Graphic Violence, Grief, Guy Fawkes - Freeform, Kidnapping, Norsefire, Original Character(s), Possessive Behavior, Post-Movie, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, This is a love story, V LIVES, fluffy eveyxV, it is so hard to write V, lots of fluff and angst tho, new government, pent up trauma and anger, rape/non-con mention, snippets of the past for the first few chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invaderspotty/pseuds/invaderspotty
Summary: Almost a year after the 5th of November, Evey recalls her memories with V and what could have been. With the upcoming celebration, the new government is anxious for retaliation from the remnants of Norsefire. Evey is caught in the middle of it all, only to discover that V's fate wasn't what she thought. He is alive, with a new goal in mind.
Relationships: Evey Hammond/V
Series: V for Vendetta [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084817
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43





	1. Ponderings

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO everyone.
> 
> If you read my other story on here you'll note how it only made it to 2 chapters before I basically gave up. BUT THIS SHALL NOT BE THE SAME. 
> 
> I just saw V for Vendetta for the first time this year, and lemme just say I am OBSESSED. I wish there was a bigger fandom for this movie or smthn but (this movie is more of a political cultural reset rather than a fandom type movie)....I love Evey and V with all my heart. I don't find myself very good at writing fics but I hope you all enjoy anyways.
> 
> The first few chapters are going to contain snippets of Evey's memories within the timeline of the movie, but then it'll come to the present (post-movie) plot after a bit. But there are so many holes in the movie where we don't see Evey/V interact that I wanna fill a lil bit.
> 
> This fic IS a love story - altho definitely a slow burn - but will have angst and some dark elements. Keep an eye on the tags I suppose...they're a mess. I specifically wanted to write this bc there is a SEVERELY DEPRESSING lack of good long V for Vendetta fics out there, and I want to write these characters as well as I can. I don't expect many ppl to find/read this story unfortunately.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: of course, I don't own anything in this story at all. These characters belong to the writers (both Alan Moore and the writers of the film) and I am simply trying to play them. V is very hard to write so pls don't pummel me. 
> 
> Thanks! Happy New Years, welcome 2021! Enjoy :)

It was hard to try and remain so impassive about her current predicament, so, she passively reveled in her emotions. Evey Hammond had been raised to express proper manners and gratitude when the situation called for it. She wasn’t necessarily rude to her captor, but for the first several days of her imprisonment, she barely gave him the time of day. 

Of course, she felt guilty at times anyways. V was impeccably generous to her, and the way he didn’t mind tending to her every whim would have been annoying if it hadn’t been so obvious why he did it.

He was _lonely_.

She hated coming to that realization, because she couldn’t blame him. Despite her best efforts in search, Evey hadn’t yet noticed any other distressed women lurking about down here with her. She never heard him speaking with anybody, apart from himself perhaps, which was peculiar at best. There was nobody down here but the both of them. It was something that naturally should have frightened her, stuck down here with a man she knew nothing about. Just five days ago she had come so close to being violated and assaulted, it was emotionally taxing to think about, so of course, she refused to think about it for long.

Evey knew she had almost been raped, and in all probability, she would have been murdered afterward. Her body would’ve been left like a dirty rag on the streets of London, waiting for someone to stumble upon her the next morning. The concept was horrific and when she had tried to thank V once again for saving her that night, she had begun to hyperventilate, having to lean against the wall for support until V had so kindly come to her aid. In his words, he had comforted her embarrassment by labeling the situation for what it was, “traumatic” and something that warranted these types of emotional reactions. She supposed it was.

No, she _knew_ it had been. But Evey had seen and heard so many horrible things in her lifetime already, what was one more?  
  
She really only made conversation with him when she had to, but she had to admit he was rather good at dragging it out of her. His deep voice constantly invited her into the conversation, asking about how she slept, what she wanted to eat, if she knew anything about the painting she’d been stating at for a bit too long. He was always willing to talk with her, no matter what he was doing. 

She had to admit, it was….nice. 

Of course, to her shame, she had relatively no knowledge on half of the literature or art that resided within the gallery. But he seemed more than happy to tell her the history or meaning behind anything she inquired about. She found herself quite pleased to learn about it all, it wasn’t as if she’d ever get the chance otherwise. So they were both silently satisfied, despite Evey _trying_ so desperately to keep her distance. 

He was a wanted terrorist after all. At first, she had tried to convince herself that this was a ploy, that he was going to use her or trick her, or possibly even kill her. How could she believe a word that came out of his mouth? How could she know his true intentions? He had no reason _not_ to take advantage of her, in her opinion she only saw herself as a complication in his plans. Plans which terrified and confused her, by the way. Despite his shared insights, she had been overwhelmed with trying to wrap her mind around his explanations.

Blowing up Parliament? In his mind, it created a new world for the people to grab ahold of. To her, it sounded like a bunch of chaos. A building itself wouldn’t take down Norsefire, the destruction of a building would only contribute to the argument that the government needed to have a _stronger_ grip on the people in order to maintain peace. It felt like a plan with good intention but an unrealistic result.

The government was flawed, she would be the first to admit that. The pain that Norsefire has caused her? She would never forget it. The government had taken her family from her, bruised and battered her as a child. There was corruption seeping through every crack in the system. But with a harsh grip came a much needed order, at least that was what she’d been taught. Sometimes she wondered how many others felt the same as V did, were others content with the government? Had V’s speech simply flown past their ears?

Somehow she knew better than to believe that. The silence that had spread across all of London while V’s voice boomed on broadcast, everyone’s attention centered strictly on the mysterious masked man on the screen...Something had ignited across the country, and Evey didn’t know what to think about it.

She didn’t trust V, though in truth she only held her ground to that notion out of misguided spite. Her mother had always claimed she was stubborn, but she saw less and less of that in herself as the years had passed. 

Several days within the Shadow Gallery had forced enough questions into her head to make herself go crazy. Who was V _really_? Was V his actual name?  
  
Was this just a hideout for him? Did he have a family somewhere that he went to during his recurring absences from the Gallery? Why did he wear the mask? It was easy to assume that he wore it above ground to conceal his identity, but even down here she had _never_ seen him take it off. 

At first, it was easy to brush away the desire to know these answers, it was easy to avoid everything involving him actually. Evey had been so scared to anger him in at all, but after several small interactions with him - especially his light-hearted attempts to engage her - he had convinced her that it was almost impossible to anger him. He was awkward at times, yes, but always the perfect gentleman, which was very surprising. He was almost...easy to be around. His excitement was unnaturally contagious and she hated to admit that his company wasn’t...terrible.

So, after a while, Evey finally gained the courage to approach him herself to ask him some of the questions that had plagued her mind for days. 

Carefully stepping out of her room, she looked back and forth in the small corridor. Her wooden door was significantly warmer compared to the stone that lined every wall of this place. But then again, the entire Gallery was rather chilly. It was odd being in a place that was so much colder than she was used to. Her bare feet moved delicately, carrying her out into the large dome of the Gallery. 

It was eerily silent, no music playing from the Wurlitzer. But she was used to the silence, London was constantly silent. 

As her feet met carpet, she moved more fluidly, eyes darting back and forth around the gallery for some sign of V. It wasn’t until she came towards the center dome that she looked to her left and spotted him sitting on the other side of the room at a desk. From the back, he appeared motionless, and she would’ve thought him asleep if she hadn’t spotted the book splayed open to the side in his hand against the arm rest. 

Afraid to disturb him, she walked slowly, but her presence was not unnoticed nor ignored. No matter how silent she tried to be, he could somehow always sense her. Silence did not hinder his senses. She could see the top of his wig move, turning towards the side, a small part of the bright porcelain mask peeked out from behind the chair.

“Ah, Evey.” 

He shut his book with a satisfying clap, and she stopped in her tracks while he rose from his seat with grace. Swiveling around to side, he kept a hand on the top of the headrest. He was wearing his usual black doublet and trousers, boots on as well. V looked just about ready to rush head first towards any random threat. 

Did he ever simply _relax_? Did he not have relaxing clothes to wear around his own home? Or was he simply uncomfortable with the idea of appearing vulnerable?

She watched, the black mesh eyes staring into her, patient as ever.

“I was just wondering...If we could talk? I just…” He tilted his head curiously. “I have a few questions I’ve been wanting to ask you.” She admitted softly.

His hand gestured politely as he nodded to her. “I shall try my best to answer.”

Looking around awkwardly, Evey looked for the closest place to sit, her arms swinging limply. As if reading her mind, V stepped forward and gestured for her to follow him..

“Let us go to the kitchen, I was about to fix some lunch -” Cutting himself off as he paused mid-step to look back at her. “Was there anything you wished to request?”

Falling in step behind him almost immediately, she felt her stomach twist with need at the thought of food. When had she last eaten? She hadn’t appeared for any breakfast that morning. Shaking her head to him, she was again baffled at why he felt the need to ask her preference at all.

“No, anything is fine, thank you.” 

He gave a soft hum in response, and she was left to trail behind him as they made their short journey to the kitchen. She felt oddly homey in the little dining area, it was compact and cluttered but gave her a warm feeling. The smell of spices from the cabinets was always so enticing and she had to admit, V’s cooking was spectacular. Where he had learned to cook the way he did, she had no idea.

V automatically pulled out a chair for her to sit, and she uttered another small thank you as she sat herself down. Scooting her bum in towards the table, Evey listened as the other went rummaging about through the small pantry and cabinets to her left. 

“What are you going to make?” She asked, feeling an awkward tension. 

He seemed to feel none of what she imagined, moving quickly and efficiently as he always did.

“A beef stew, it is quite easy to make and will last several meals.” He informed her promptly.

She had no idea how he always stayed so...happy. Perhaps happy wasn’t the right word, but he always seemed grateful to have something to do. He was a man who liked to keep busy. He desired purpose.

Evey nodded slowly and the silence filled the kitchen again as V worked. It was less than a minute before his voice requested her attentions.

“I believe you had some questions for me?” He asked, his voice free of any annoyance or impatience. If anything, he sounded curious.

Swallowing thickly, Evey fiddled with her hands in her lap and looked from the table to the back of his head while he chopped at some vegetables and raw meat. Where did he even acquire that stuff? He left the gallery at times, for hours on end, but even with that in mind it didn’t make sense when considering all the details.

“Yes…” She tried to collect her thoughts, realizing she had exactly planned on what to ask him first. “Well, you said this was your home.” He grunted in agreement. “This is your only home? You don’t have...some kind of home up in London? With your family?” She asked cautiously.

He paused, head raising for a moment as he seemed to contemplate his answer. 

“No, this is my only home. There is nothing of that sort above the ground for me.” He answered, a firmness to his tone as he went back to chopping.

He clearly meant no harm in his words or his tone, but it took her by surprise nonetheless. Rarely did she hear him speak with such a firmness. His answer was direct, and offered no room for her to dig further.

A prolonged silence greeted them both again and she twiddled her thumbs in hesitation. He was evermore patient with her, seeming unconcerned as he picked up the small chopping board and let the vegetable pieces fall into the pot.

“Why do you wear the mask?” She asked suddenly, figuring it was better to just get it over with.

She had expected that question to have a visible effect on him, but it didn’t. What surprised her was the small chuckle that came from him as he clicked the stove on before finally turning to face her. 

“I must admit that I expected far less trivial questions.” He tilted his head at her, and she could hear his grin behind that devilish Guy Fawkes grin.

“Can you blame me for wondering though?” She retorted light-heartedly, raising her eyebrows.

Shaking his head, he leaned against the counter and watched her.

“No, of course not.” He replied, looking up and past her for a moment while he thought. “The mask suggests that I wish to conceal my identity, but it is merely apart of who I am.” 

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, she had expected a simpler answer. So he used the mask as a symbol of sorts? Was that it? Clearly the history of Guy Fawkes played a significant part...But his answer suggested that the mask meant more to him than that.

She didn’t dare probe further though. 

Seeming satisfied with the answer he had provided, V turned his attention back to the stew, grabbing a utensil from the side to stir everything together while the pot heated. 

“What else do you desire to know, my dear?” 

Biting the inside of her cheek, Evey pondered what else she wanted to ask. His vague answers should’ve irritated her but she felt oddly content with what she’d been given. Which suited her just fine for now.

“Hmm...Have you read all the books in here?” She asked, maybe it was time for some non-trivial questions.

Again, she was graced with his deep chuckle, a sound that was oddly relieving. When he laughed for her it always felt sincere.

“No, there are far too many, though I think you would be surprised if you knew just how many I’ve read.” He admitted, stirring gently. 

Balancing her elbow on the table, Evey let her chin rest atop her fist as she regarded him with perplexed curiosity. He simply wasn’t how she imagined him to be. Above the ground he had seemed dangerous, sinister, yet graceful and elegant. But even down here, within the Gallery, where she was his only observer, he still moved with such grace and purpose.

It was simply just how he was.

Not at all what she expected from a terrorist. He was definitely a bit crazy, but he carried himself in a way that was weirdly comforting.

Smiling softly to herself, she looked from the table top and back up to him to find that he was staring down at her. That mask was unreadable, which until this very moment she had never cared about. But his gaze bore into her, if only for a few moments and she felt frozen, her smile faltering quickly as they held each other’s gaze. The mask tore away from her, and V’s voice gave away nothing, indicating that he had simply just been observing.

“If you would like, I can offer you my own recommendations.” He mused.

Blinking, Evey looked back down to the table.

“Recommendations?” “For the books.” “Oh! Yes, that would be wonderful actually.” She chimed in response, her mind returning to the present. He gave a grunt of satisfaction, nodding to himself as he took a single bowl down from the upper cabinet. The specific action didn’t go unnoticed by Evey as he poured his creation into the bowl and placed it before her. 

“Why do you choose not to eat with me?” She blurted curiously, giving him a not so serious glare. He looked back at her, his face drawing back at her targeting question. Turning his attention back to the food, he began to immediately busy himself with putting the remaining food away for later.

“I don’t wish to trouble you-”

  
  
“You don’t. You even sit with me and talk sometimes so I know that isn’t the real reason.” She threw back at him, disappointment creeping into her tone. His head lowered, and she felt a string of guilt. It wasn’t her business why he didn’t want to remove his mask and eat with her. Why should she even care?

  
  
“You wouldn’t wish to see what is beneath this mask while trying to eat, I assure you.” He replied, masked bitterness lacing his words.

Evey bit her tongue, the sudden realization dawning on her.

_His hands._

His hands were burnt, severely. How could she not have suspected that the burns reached farther up his body? Just what kind of fire had he been in?  
  
Licking her lips she looked down at her stew, ashamed and embarrassed.

“I apologize, I had no wish to upset you.” His voice suddenly sounded above her, drawing her gaze back to him. 

“No, no, that was my fault. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone about like that.” She rushed to confess, her eyes wide. He simply nodded slowly in response, avoiding her gaze. 

Evey felt even worse given the fact that he now somehow believed her questions to be his own fault. It was his privacy, and she hadn’t meant to overstep. It was odd interactions like these that confused her even more. He was an enigma. Why was he like this?

Picking up her spoon, she took note of the lack of steam rising from the stew.

“I shall leave you to it then.” He stated briskly, appearing to notice as well. V wasted no time in moving past her and out of the kitchen. 

“Wait!”

  
  
He paused, and she looked over her shoulder at him.

“You don’t have to go.” She urged, unwilling to leave the conversation like that.

He gave a deep sigh, barely turning to look at her.

“I’m sorry Evey, but I do have work to attend to.”

  
  
Silence met them both after that, and he strode away without another word. Evey sighed, turning back to her food in defeat. He had been reading just before speaking with her, it felt unlikely that he suddenly had work to do. She would have to speak with him later and make things right. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. The Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories from Evey's time at the Shadow Gallery before her escape to Gordon's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for everything in this chapter, ch3 AND ch1 to all be in just ONE chapter but I wrote too much and had to separate. 
> 
> This chapter just covers Evey's (and some of V's) thoughts within the Gallery such as bonding moments, Evey after learning about Prothero's death, her having nightmares, etc. 
> 
> TW for violence I suppose!
> 
> Enjoy!

“Well, I’m sure you have plays hidden somewhere?” She asked, her energy suddenly piquing. 

The question absolutely delighted V, his mask turning towards her as the pair sat on the ground in front of the telly, books placed across the floor around them. Only moments ago had the both of them been completely engrossed in a friendly yet heated debate on the events of one _Pride and Prejudice_. It was hardly the type of book to spark debate, yet somehow they both had gotten into it.

If there was one thing V was, it was passionate. She had never been able to read so many books or have anybody to talk to about them to. He was certainly enthusiastic to discuss them with her.

Jumping to his feet, V pointed a finger as he gazed around the Gallery, seemingly trying to remember the location he desired. He paused.

“Ah! Yes, one-moment mademoiselle! I shall return!” He declared, causing Evey to bite at her lip and shake her head at the smile forming on her face. He had a thing for flare, but while others might’ve thought it annoying, Evey was grateful for the potent energy that emitted from him. It was like nothing she’d seen before. She liked to imagine that he was some fictional character from another time that had been plucked from the book and dropped here, in London.

He strode off, moving quickly as his boots hit the carpet and stone with purpose across the Gallery. It baffled him to imagine Evey doubted the extent of his collection. With the amount of Shakespeare that he quoted, it should be obvious he had an abundance of plays, should it not? Beneath his own mask, he smiled to himself, thoroughly pleased. Over the past few days it had been most gratifying to engage with Evey, oh she was a smart little thing! Her curiosity was blooming, a clear indication that her life above ground had not engaged her as he had. Curiosity was not something necessarily encouraged by Sutler, it led to too many questions.

It was what made him grateful for her presence down here. Not just because of the delightful company she brought him, but because the Shadow Gallery had allowed her to explore. It had gifted her with beautiful art and impactful literature. Having the chance to share what he had with her, to help her learn and to collect her own insight...It was addicting in a sense. He wasn’t used to the privilege of sharing his life.

Arriving along a curved shelf, V pushed past the red velvet curtains that guarded his prized set. Of course, all the Shakespearean plays lined the shelf, as well as a few others including _Hedda Gabler_ by Henrik Ibsen and even the Russian play _The Seagull_ by Anton Chekhov.

He imagined Evey would prefer something she could fluently read though. Although, any of the plays he housed were a joy to try and understand nonetheless. Capturing a small selection of play booklets from the wall, he was soon returning back to the lady’s side by the telly. Carefully, he spread them along the ground in front of her.

“Whichever you desire, my dear.” He informed her, gesturing kindly.

Evey’s face scrunched, her eyes narrowing as she observed each play he had brought to her. Hesitating, her eyes widened for a moment as she spotted and snatched a particular one. Her emotions couldn’t betray her, a fond smile spreading on her lips as she lifted one and gave him a knowing look.

“Why am I not surprised you brought Twelfth Night?” She snickered, shaking her head teasingly. 

He simply lifted his hands in mock innocence and shrugged, situating himself back on the carpet.

“It is a _worthy_ play, and although you are familiar with it, how long has it been since you’ve actually read it through?” He asked, resting his hands in his lap. Evey glanced down at the play in her hand, still smiling - oh how a smile suited her!

“It’s been a long time…” She admitted sadly, her eyes trailing the cover for what seemed like forever. Evey was filled with thoughts of her parents, of her brother, of past times long forgotten...She associated this play with better times. Times when the world didn’t feel so messy.

“Would you like to read it with me?” She asked, peering up at him cautiously. He tilted his head in surprise, observing her carefully. He didn’t take long to respond, but his surprise was evident in his voice.

“It would be my honor, milady.” He twirled his hand and leaned over in a mock bow. Sitting up straight, he rested his palms on his knees. 

It didn’t take long to get into the structure of things, dividing parts and the like, although since he only had one copy it forced the pair to sit rather closely together. Which surprisingly enough, neither seemed to mind. The booklet lay flat in front of them, allowing them both to read as they spoke.

_“...O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou…_

_That, notwithstanding thy capacity,_

_Receiveth as the sea. Nought enters there,_

_Of what validity and pitch so’er,_

_But falls into abatement and low price_

_Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy_

_That it alone is high fantastical.”_

  
  
Evey shuffled, her shoulder practically touching V’s as she leaned over to read.

_“Will you go hunt, my lord?”_

She could hear his breaths so clearly through the mask.

_“What, Curio?”_

She smiled.

_“The hart.”_

_“Why so I do, the noblest that I have._

_O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,_

_Methought she purged the air of pestilence._

_That instant, was I turned into a hart._

_And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds._

_E’er since pursue me.”_

They went on slowly, sitting together with their backs supported against the couch as Evey read her parts, her memories flooding back with every scene. It was hard not to day dream as V read his lines, his voice deep and rich as he recited the parts with such emotion and purpose to his declarations.

If the world had been different, Evey imagined he might’ve been a good politician or some type of public speaker. He definitely had the type of voice that caught the attention of others. He had already caught the attention of the entire country with it! It was soothing to listen to, and Evey had to admit that she was having a good time. Despite the fact that they were simply sitting and reading back and forth, the pair knew that this play was more than just words on a page. 

She was almost lulled to sleep by the time they had finished, and much to her relief, V helped gather her onto the couch as they finally finished. Evey was silently thankful he hadn’t taken the liberty of picking her up completely to carry her to her designated room, it would’ve been unnecessary and rather...unsettling for whatever reason. Any type of physical contact with him just felt confusing, like she’d light on fire should she stay too close for too long. She was perfectly comfortable with their casual touches.  


  
___________________________________________________________________

Practically storming back to her room with a huff, rivaling that of an obnoxious teenager, Evey found that she was at a loss for words. No clear thought would come to her mind that wasn’t immediately countered with some pathetic argument.

She wasn’t so much cross as she was frightened and disturbed. But who could blame her? 

Evey had learned only moments ago that not only had Lewis Prothero been killed, but V had been the guilty party, and worse, he showed no remorse for his actions. _And_ to top it off he had _stolen_ from her.

Shutting the door to her designated room, she let her back lay against the solid wood as she attempted to collect her thoughts. Stealing from her, especially in these circumstances, was profoundly inappropriate given that using her I.D. card only strengthened her link to V. A link that she wasn’t particularly fond of too! To Norsefire, she could’ve killed Prothero herself for all they cared.

But it _wasn’t_ her! She hadn’t killed anybody!

  
  
Her eyes darted around her room, her feet suddenly itching for escape - and not for the first time either, and she doubted it would be the last. She was stuck down here with a man -- if he could be called that -- who showed no remorse for his horrific actions! He did whatever he pleased!

  
  
Did she like Lewis Prothero? Of course not. Did she despise his bloody awful show? Yes! Did she think he was evil and deserved to die? No! What _"justice"_ had been gained by his murder?

  
  
But as she slid to the floor she reconsidered the conversation with significant distaste. 

What bothered her most was that V had made a few valid points, points that she had refuted only out of spite…

Violence could be used for good. His words had shaken her when he reminded her so plainly of the sticky situation that had befallen her weeks ago. V had killed those bloody Fingermen without hesitation, and by God, she would’ve done the same were she in his position and capable.

_So why did this strike her so differently?_

Because even if the Voice if London hadn't deserved it, it was technically another step towards destroying the hypocrisy that he broadcasted in favor of the government.

  
  
Shaking her head, she buried her face within her palms and wrestled with her thoughts.

At least she knew she needed to keep a closer eye on her purse from now on…

But maybe if she could just get out of here? Her residency here had shamefully been...dare she say enjoyable so far?

No, that didn’t feel like the right word. She enjoyed his company, though a prick in her chest screamed that she shouldn’t. Maybe she should just lock herself in her room and interact with him as little as possible, drive herself crazy with boredom until November the fifth. But a traitorous part of her desired his company, and in some ways his undivided attention. There were times she had discovered a new book to read or stumbled upon another interesting aspect within the Gallery that she was too shy to approach V about -- how she wished she had the courage.

Sometimes she swore V to be a mind reader, among his many other talents.

The ruly gentleman could always sense when she had something on her mind, it was more relieving than it was creepy, seeing as it took a weight off her shoulders half the time. He would engage her in conversation and eventually her thoughts would present themself out loud, only spiking the conversation more as the pair bonded.

But she didn’t _want_ to bond with him, she wanted, no-- _needed_ to get out of here before things got worse!  
  
Raking her nails over her scalp, Evey rose to her feet. She knew V wouldn’t follow her after their spat, and she knew better than to expect an apology from him. He had no remorse for what he’d done. Everything he did was calculated and purposeful, he did nothing without reason.

What confused her was how she could be so weirdly... _open_ to accepting to what V had done?

  
V was a lot of things, he was brutal at times, he was straightforward and dangerous. He was precise and efficient in everything he did! Shouldn’t he frighten her more?

  
  
It was agonizing to contemplate. It was unfair.

She had grown to trust the bloody bastard. 

It was important to note that despite everything, she felt assured that he would never lay a finger on her. If he had wanted to dispose of her, he would’ve done so already. He hadn’t saved her twice just to kill her, right? In the end, it was difficult to accept that she just desired his company, in this little place that they both currently occupied. She had to admit it was dreadfully easy to drive yourself to boredom down here. If she was his only company, then it was no surprise why he spoke to her every chance he got within reason. 

Sighing, she groaned and kicked the door with her heel in annoyance before making her way towards her bed. 

It was unusual for her to be battling her emotions so drastically. She had grown to just accept how things were over the years. On one hand, she wanted to trust V and believe that his reasonings were...justified. But on another, her instinct was to break away. She needed to get out of here, out from under his constant watch. She needed safety, she needed someone to tell her what the right choice was.

Evey wanted to pretend none of this had happened, it was easier that way. If she were discovered by Norsefire here, she would be slaughtered. If she got out and turned herself in -- if she revealed what she knew about V, she would be let off easy right? Her mistakes would be forgiven, and life would go back to normal as it should’ve always been.

That was the easiest to try and believe.

But it wasn’t _real_. 

Swallowing down her sorrow, Evey collapsed on her bed, the dark red comforter welcoming her tired body with ease. Deep down, Evey knew that if she gave herself up she would be black bagged before her lips could utter a single word. 

That was the reality, and truth be told it _hurt._

V had been right, all those weeks ago.

There was something terribly wrong with this country, and even worse, she knew everyone across London was thinking it now too. That very sentence was at the forefront of everyone’s mind. A small part of her suddenly wondered how it was above ground, if anyone had dared to riot or if Norsefire had cracked down on their arrests...Was there chaos above ground?

V had said he would kill again, and she didn’t dare to believe otherwise. But who, and why? He was a man of reason, so what _were_ his reasons?  
  
Suddenly a knock sounded, jerking her from her thoughts and she practically jumped off the bed.

“Evey?”  
  
V’s voice sounded, slightly muffled across the wooden barrier. Immediately Evey relaxed, sitting up properly on her bed but making no move toward the door.

“Um--yes?” She struggled to get out evenly.

“I heard a bang, I simply wanted to see if the lady was alright.” His voice was steady, even laced with subtle... _concern?_

She swallowed thickly and shuffled uneasily, he must’ve heard her dammed heel kick.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry, everything’s alright in here.”

  
  
Silence. 

After a few moments she assumed he was gone, and the sound of his boots against the far away stone moments later confirmed that he had left her door.

Sighing loudly, Evey again collapsed on the bed. She needed to figure out a plan, she couldn’t stay here, not like this. Being named an accomplice to V was already terrifying enough and if she could just find a way to get out and hide...from everything.

She’d be safe. She would find a way to be safe. Norsefire was more focused on V than her, right? V was the one who had done these things, he was the more dangerous one. Rolling over, Evey pressed her face into the comforter and contemplated letting out an even louder groan to release some of her own tension. Deciding against it, Evey sat up, eyeing the room around her. The stacks and stacks of books were enough company for now.

\------------------------------------------------

Darkness was what greeted her, but it was such a common concept underground that Evey had grown used to it. She had begun to learn from V that the shadows and the darkness could be allies. He had begun to teach her how to use them, as best as he could within the Gallery. She knew the basic ins and outs of the Gallery by now, even if she didn’t know what was in every room. She had respected V’s privacy and his wishes just as he tried to respect her own.

So now, within the midst of her room, even in the darkness, she knew she wasn’t alone. Her body lay practically rigid in her bed, her hands clutching at the covers as she begged her eyes to adjust...even just a little bit.

A disturbance had shaken her from her sleep, and now she was positive that there was someone in her room.

_“V?”_

  
  
That was instinctual, the only person who _could_ be in here was V. Right?

  
  
Unless someone had discovered the Shadow Gallery, but they would’ve had to not only discover this place but get inside without alerting V and then incapacitate him as well. It was too unlikely. She shivered, noting the significant temperature drop as she tried to sit up using her elbows.

Nothing greeted her call, except a shuffling noise, and just as soon as she launched herself to the small lamp on the bedside table, she felt a large hand wrap itself into her hair. Her fight or flight activated once the leather fingers tightened their grip, clutching at her scalp painfully as he suddenly dragged her closer to the edge of the mattress. She gave a cry of surprise and anger, trying to swing her legs around to kick at him.

It was surely V, the leather that touched her scalp and as she turned to face him, his aura was undeniable. The only thing off was his deafening silence. 

“V! Stop, it’s me!” She hissed, terrified at this turn of events. Was he sleepwalking? No, this felt different, and it was strangely familiar.

Suddenly she was lifted upwards by her hair, which elicited another yowl from her before her head was slammed down like it was garbage attached to his hand. Her face practically thrown into the mattress, she tried to move before she felt his weight upon her. Even with barely any struggle, he had rendered her immobile with his hands and body. His knee clearly propped up on the bed to dig into her side. 

But it was the hand that snaked around her throat that really sent her into a frenzy. Holding her in place against the mattress, she felt him give a sharp prick to her arm, a subtle pain that she recognized yet couldn’t understand.

Now panicking, Evey screamed and fought against him, her limbs heavier than she ever remembered. All of her struggles seemed absolutely pointless against his stone hold. None of this made sense, and she had begun to babble about, screaming his name and begging for him to let her _go._ But her resilience waived after several moments. He didn’t even speak. Even through the darkness, she could now make out his mask staring down at her with that dammed Guy Fawkes grin. It was quite terrifying at times, but the way he simply stared at her...She suddenly knew what he had done.

He had drugged her.

Surely he was bound to kill her, dispose of her as he had probably wanted to do for some time now. Or worse, maybe he would rape her, then kill her. She was a distraction, a knot in his plans, a liability that he couldn’t afford. Her terrified brown eyes stared back up at him, her lids slowly drooping as she laid there, growing weaker. Her capacity for resilience was fleeting by the second.

He had killed Prothero, was this how he’d done it? Attacking him in the night, restraining him until he was helpless and screaming? It sounded like an awful way to die.

  
  
She writhed pitifully at this thought, unwilling to give up completely. The action didn’t seem to anger V whatsoever, he simply just squeezed his hand at her throat in warning, her face still half smushed into the mattress. Swallowing thickly, Evey let out a sob as she felt her limbs go limp.

“ _Why_ are you doing this?” She cried to him tiredly, panic flowing through her nerves, his other hand holding her steadily at the hip as he stood along the edge of the bedside.

“‘I’ve a gift for you, before we part.” He spoke so smoothly as he ignored her question, had it been in any other situation she would’ve thought he was trying to soothe her. But now it only frightened her, his undeniable calmness confirming what he was doing. 

Again, even in the darkness, she could make out the bright scarlet coloring as he pulled a rose from beneath his black cape. His daggers glinting in the brief reveal as he fluttered the rose about in her face. She could smell it, its bittersweet scent as he laid it before her, mere inches from her nose. She hadn’t seen a rose in ages, but a perfectly beautiful one now sat before her, baiting her to grab it. Teasing her because she physically couldn’t.

Letting out a shaky sob she turned her face away from him.

“Oh, _please_ …”

If he had wanted to kill her, she was sure that was how he’d do it. It was frightening of course, especially when the same nightmare occurred more than once. She woke up in a panic every time the nightmare reoccurred. It was always the same, yet she was woefully unprepared every time. 

Sweating bloody _bullets_ , Evey shot up in her bed with a startled yelp, her hand flying to swat at anything or anyone that might be within reach. Of course, empty space was the only thing she make out. The darkness still filled her room, but she was the only one there. She was alone and safe.

For now.

After learning of Prothero’s death by V’s hand, she had begun to envision that she was bound to be his next target. 

She was a _liability_.

Why did he bother to keep her here when he could simply kill her?  
  
Who lived above the ground that would mourn her? Nobody. There was no easier victim to choose than her.

It was a depressing thought, but one she had no choice but to recognize. Bringing her knees up to her chest, Evey allowed herself to sob, overwhelmed by the lingering panic of the nightmare and her own despair at her situation. Left and right her emotions fought her, pulling her in every direction, trying to convince her of what was right.

The desire for space and light shook her, prompting her to leave her room in a hurry. She wasn’t quite aware of if or when V slept, but her room suddenly felt very suffocating, leaving her with little choice. Death frightened her to no end, it was for that reason that she had often considered betraying V to the Fingermen, should she find a way to escape. But after her time here, she knew simply hiding was best for her. Avoidance and feigned ignorance would get her through this.

She would die no matter what she did or didn’t do for V.

Opening the door, she wiped away at the wetness still lingering on her cheeks. She was positive she looked absolutely atrocious, her hair a mess and her face red and puffy. But she trailed out into the Gallery anyways, pleased to be greeted with golden light. V always kept the lights on in the main area of the gallery.

Despite certain fears, she felt safe in the Gallery. It felt like a silent safe haven, her own little secret that she had to share with V.

There was no music to greet her, and to her delight, there was no V either. He was nowhere she could see or hear him, and she silently prayed he was deep asleep.

Settling down on the couch in front of the telly, she held her knees to her and buried her face within them as the armrest supported her back. 

Every time she woke from her nightmares, and allowed her body to recover from the panic, she _wanted_ to believe that V would never hurt her. Hell, there had been times she’d merely _tripped_ on a carpet edge or something and he would display immediate concern. 

It was cute sometimes, how he tried to care for her, he tried to teach her. But she knew it went beyond that. He sensed her fear, he knew just how cautious she was when it came to him. He knew she didn’t trust him or anyone really, not completely. He knew all of these things, and maybe that was why he felt the need to take care of her so.

Sighing, she took a moment to observe the gallery around her, but she visibly flinched as her eyes landed on a certain Guy Fawkes mask coming silently around the corner. 

Her panic was evident in her reaction, and even V paused in surprise. 

“Jesus, V, you can’t scare me like that!” She snapped, removing the hand that was clutching at the headrest of the couch so it could instead lay flat against her heartbeat.

“My apologies, I expected you to be sleeping.” He answered sincerely, walking towards her. She visibly stiffened, her eyes darting to the opposite side of the room where she could make her escape without getting too close to him. He seemed to notice this, pausing mid-step again to regard her. 

“Are you alright? Has something frightened you?” V asked, those black mesh eyes staring straight through her. 

Evey licked her lips, slowly rising to her feet without taking her eyes off of him.

“No, no, just...Couldn’t sleep. Got a bit restless, I’ll return back to bed now.” She replied rather quickly, suddenly embarrassed at her clearly pathetic. excuse. 

V crossed his arms, moving towards her so slowly it was impossible for her to feel threatened. But it wasn’t until he rounded the couch that she rounded the other side and skidded back towards her room.

“Evey!”

  
  
“I’m fine!”

  
  
She didn’t feel like talking with him. But he didn’t pursue her further.

It wasn’t until she woke again, screaming and sobbing that he refused to stay away. A strong knock at her door followed by his entrance and suddenly she was curled into a ball against him, his arms holding her tightly as she tried to control her breathing.

This dream hadn’t been the same. It was another nightmare she experienced often, about her parents and their untimely demise. Unlike the actual memory, she was no longer a child in her nightmares, she had her same strength and quick thinking as she did now.

But she could do nothing.

It was the worst feeling she could experience, reliving her mother’s capture. Knowing that her parents were never going to return. With all her will and her desire, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t save them. Fear had stiffened her spine, it had taken control of her feet, locking them in place. It was the fear that had stopped her, resulting in her own demise as well.

When her ears finally began to stop ringing, she could hear recall the sound of V’s soft hushes, the way his gloved hand trailed small hesitant circles on her back. She didn’t know how she’d landed here, in his arms on her bed. Whether she had reached for him, or him for her...But she had no desire to move for a long time. Her nerves were still on fire.

His presence was suddenly very soothing, and she felt assured that no one could harm her while he held her. 

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but before she knew it he was guiding her to the kitchen for a hot cup of tea.

Bless him, he remained silent whilst preparing the tea, allowing her to return to her full consciousness and collect herself. She was embarrassed, yet grateful for his comfort. How he must think of her…

Sighing, Evey looked down at her hands, her attention drawn back to the present when V placed the cup in front of her.

“Lavender tea, it will help.” He spoke softly, his voice showing no ounce of judgment. He was too polite for that. She nodded and dragged the cup to her, inhaling its scent.

“Are you alright?” He asked again, as now it was obvious that things were indeed frightening her. Her lip curled in sorrow, and she felt her forehead grow tense with emotion again as she fought back the feeling of crying again. Evey nodded to him, but it was as unconvincing as ever.

“I’ve suspected for a while that you’ve been plagued with nightmares, I assume I’m correct?” He asked, sitting down at the table. 

She looked to him, her eyes glistening with wetness as embarrassed panic sparked again at his question. “How did you--?”  
  
“I confess, you may be a bit louder than you’d prefer while you sleep during the night.” He told her, insinuating that she cried out in her sleep. Her shoulders hunched in uncertainty, her gaze drifting away from him as she picked up the cup and began to sip at the tea.

“It is nothing to be embarrassed about, Evey. Nightmares are common monsters amongst us all.” He informed her, his voice even. He tilted his head in thought for a moment as he gripped at the right words. _“‘A dream itself is but a shadow.’”_

She blinked.

_Hamlet..._

“You aren’t the one screaming in the middle of the night from bad dreams…” She uttered into her cup, whether he heard it or ignored it, she didn’t know. She simply sipped at her tea.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tucking a curl of hair behind her ear, Evey swallowed another gulp and looked to him. He sat patiently waiting, seeming content with whatever she was comfortable with.

“V?”

  
  
He hummed in acknowledgment, his one hand resting on the table.

“When you killed Prothero...Was it due to something he did? To you?” She asked, wide-eyed. She felt like she was treading on fragile ground, and the fact that she couldn’t see his reactions behind the mask made it even harder. “Or did you just not like him and the things he said on the telly?”

He looked down at his hand, tapping his fingers against the table as he collected himself.

“Prothero and I share a history, though it may be ancient to him, it has never been forgotten by me.” He stated darkly, in a tone she had never quite heard before. Blinking at him, she considered this, expecting that to be the end of it.

“He did things to change this country for the worse, for his own gain. His death held him accountable.”

  
  
She bit at her tongue, feeling like his answer should’ve enlightened her but it only left her with more questions. Sinking into her seat, she took another sip of tea. 

“Why do you ask?”

  
  
She had hoped he wouldn’t ask her that. 

Her eyes dragged up to him, and she coughed as she swallowed.

“I think I…” Would it even matter if she revealed her fear? He could always just lie to her face, but it would make her feel better nonetheless. Or it could just offend him and make things worse. “I know that I have to stay here until the fifth...But I’ve been frightened lately...that you’re going to make sure I’m...gone before then.” She confessed slowly. Hadn’t she seen enough to know this man didn’t get angry easily? He wasn’t bound to blow up on her, so why was she so afraid? Maybe because she was afraid she wouldn’t feel comforted no matter how he answered.

Her inclination was crystal clear to him, and the hit to his heart was almost immediate. His shoulders sank in surprise, and he wasn’t fond of surprises. The fear that covered her face like a mask, it was disappointing to see. He had begun to think that after all of her time down here, the few skills she had learned from him, the interactions they’d had...Had it done nothing to improve her opinion of him?  
  
Perhaps he deserved it, after all, he _had_ just gone about and snatched her from everything she’d known and loved. In her eyes, he was a mad terrorist, ready to blow a fuse at any given moment. He was aware of this vision of himself, but it wasn’t really him, at least not with her. The idea of harming her churned his stomach, the nasty bump on her head from when she had first arrived was already a big enough crime against her beautiful face. She deserved no pain, and it pained him to see her suffer from nightmares rooted from fear of him.

Sighing, he shook his head at her.

“Evey, I assure you, you have nothing to fear from _me_ during your stay here.” He tried to tell her, his voice low and soft. It was enough of what she needed, despite herself. 

Watching her nod, it was unclear to him whether she truly believed him or not. 

But unbeknownst to him, Evey had felt a weight in his words. He had sounded almost tired saying them, almost... _sad_. He wouldn’t be naive enough to refute her fear as a hilarious impossibility, he would never try to ridicule her on purpose like that. But it was a very real possibility had he been someone else. But dare he say, he had grown to care for the girl’s wellbeing. It could be argued he had cared about her since the very beginning when he had revealed himself to save her from the Fingermen. 

She was stronger than she believed, behind the veiled fear in her eyes, she so desperately wanted to take things into her own hands. Perhaps one day she would.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some good, some bad, some angst, and both V and Evey unwilling to subconsciously acknowledge their attachment to one another. But this is the last chapter of memories from within the timeline of the movie so yay!!

Alcohol was a luxury for many in London, its prices had been very high for as long as Evey could remember. Her parents had never drank, and while Evey didn’t actively search for a good bottle of something strong she didn’t refuse the chance at a good drink. Thankfully, with Gordon, she was able to shamelessly indulge herself with a good glass of fine whiskey.

It wasn’t the first time she had bonded with him over some alcohol, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Her nerves had been on edge ever since she arrived here in that horrid outfit. 

She felt as guilty as ever, her thoughts swarming with doubt. When Evey had arrived she had thrown away that grotesquely childish outfit like it was fire on her skin. It might as well have been. A good shower and new clothes had been just enough to get rid of the feeling those clothes gave her, the feeling that Bishop’s hands had left. 

She visibly squirmed in her seat at the reminder of him. 

It was shameful to admit that when V had shared his plan with her, enlightening her to the role she would play...She had been disgusted and horrified. What was he even saying? It didn’t make sense and at first, she had expressed resistance...But she knew it was her only real chance at escape.

If she could get a word in with the Bishop before V arrived, she could save not only herself but him as well. Bishop Lilliman was a well-regarded figure throughout all of London! She wasn’t necessarily very religious but even she had a decent respect for him. It was ridiculous, the allegations V was tossing at him. 

A figure of the church could never - _**would**_ never abuse minors in such a way! It was a terrifying notion and Evey had sulked at the idea because even though she felt that the Bishop was innocent, she was also haunted by the fact that she could be dead wrong.

If she was wrong, she’d be in terrible danger, and then V would be her only hope yet again.

She had been gambling with her chances, praying to some form of a higher being that she wasn’t wrong. Didn’t she deserve a break? This was her only chance at getting away and instead, there was the risk of a pedophilic Bishop in her way! Evey had evidently accepted her role in V’s plans, acknowledging that if V was right...then perhaps she was aiding in a public deed. If the Bishop was like the devil himself, then perhaps his demise was justified.

The odds would work in her favor, wouldn’t they? 

Unfortunately, she had indeed been _dead wrong_.

And now she was biding her time at Gordon’s place, regretting her actions and trying to free herself of the haunting reminders. Gordon had been a very generous host, especially considering he was hiding her - a fugitive - in his home. She worried for him and his safety, Evey spent most of the day trying to devise a way to get away, to keep him away from the risk. But for now, she was simply embracing temporary relief away from it all. 

Away from V, away from the Shadow Gallery.

That should’ve made her happy, but it didn’t. It hurt even more to know that V was fully aware of her betrayal and part of her feared the idea of stepping foot back into the Gallery. Sure, he wasn’t easy to anger but she had deliberately risked his plans and his life. Evey had heard the gunshot on her way out the door, she had also heard the Bishop’s pleas moments later. She doubted he would be as eager to forgive her for what she’d done.

She tried to tell herself it was better this way, that she didn’t miss him or all his books, or the way he spoke to her or taught her little tips and tricks…

It was better if she were out of his hair, and if she were no longer stuck in the middle of all that he had worked so hard to put together.

V was never far from her mind while at Gordon’s and she often wondered if he thought about her too.

————

  
  


V would never forget the moment he lifted his head to watch the rain shower down on Evey’s shoulders. The rain was coming in harsh waves from the wind, slapping against her skin like a whip. But she seemed unbothered, absorbing the pain and the relief it brought her.

Evey’s arms lifted, reaching further into the feeling, letting it take over her very soul. Her cries rang out into the night, echoing in a way that suggested she was shaking the Earth itself.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, he was sure of it. 

He had never wanted to see himself within her, not his true self, he had never wanted to see the _man_ instead of the _idea_. But seeing her now, breaking through her revelations and being reborn...He saw himself from that night. That dreadful night where he had practically burned himself alive only to rise from the ashes even stronger.

Watching her suck air into her lungs, embrace the freezing rain, stand amongst the lightning that crackled in the night sky...It was an Evey he had only seen glimpses of before.

He supposed that in a way, she was a completely different person now.

But in truth, she was the same woman she’d always been. Only now she was forced to accept the strength and pain that she’d carried with her for years. Evey Hammond was without fear, so enraptured with her own transformation that she chose to ignore the bruises and blisters that still littered her skin. From the way she stumbled he could tell that her ankle still pained her. Shame rippled through him, crawling down his spine.

His actions would not come without consequence, and even though this temporary distraction provided Evey with the closure and relief she currently needed...He knew he wasn’t about to receive any sort of “thank you” from her.

Swallowing thickly, he watched proudly as she stumbled her way back to him, finally accepting his thick cotton cape around her shoulders. With her wearing next to nothing combined with the rain, she would soon be freezing. His suspicions were proven when he began to hear her teeth chatter as they reentered the lift. 

She said nothing to him.

He let the silence linger between them.

But the haunting knowledge remained at the forefront of his mind.

_She’s going to leave, and you can’t make her stay._

\-------------------

She took note that he was absolutely stoic beside her on the ride back down to the Gallery. But honestly, she didn’t think she could bear to hear a single word come out of his mouth. He was waiting for her to yell at him, to hit him. 

Evey knew better than to expect an apology from him, she wouldn’t get one. She’d probably never get one.

What he had done was monstrous, it was cruel, it had been the ultimate betrayal.

It was true, what had hurt most was not the kicks to her ribs, or the way he threatened to pull her arm hard enough to pop it out of its socket, it was the fact that he had _laughed_ while doing these things. He had tormented and teased her, pummeled her, tortured her.

It had been _him._

She was calmer now, she resided with that stillness he had reminded her of. He wouldn’t see her shed any more tears, though she desperately wanted to just curl up and cry.

Her body was sore beyond belief, it was a wonder she remained standing for so long in the lift. It stemmed from spite, even as he reached forward to aid her once they were back in the Gallery, she simply ignored him and moved on her own. 

Evey’s ankle cried out for mercy as she placed her weight on it again. Even stumbling a bit, V took a large step towards her and she simply held out a hand in a warning for him to keep away. She didn’t _want_ his help. He’d already helped _enough_.

He was lucky she didn’t have her strength, if she were physically able then nothing would have stopped her from hitting and clawing at him. He deserved it, the bastard.

Shaking her head, she fought back tears at the pain, squeezing her eyes shut to readjust her footing. Her back still facing V, she looked down to the side.

“May I use the shower.” She asked flatly.

V recoiled slowly, seeming anxious to step out of line. His hands gathered nervously at his waist as he straightened up. 

“Of course.” 

Without another word, Evey managed to get herself to the shower that she hadn’t used in months. Was it months?  
  
Time felt so irrelevant now. Now that she was out of that cell, she had so many questions. But the desire to talk to V right now was next to none. She needed to let her anger simmer.

Because as much as she hated him, as much as she wanted to scream and kick and toss him in that cell herself...She understood why he had done what he did. Maybe not to that extent, but in his own sick and twisted way, he had done what he believed was necessary. 

She knew she would have to talk with him soon. But as she dropped the black cape around her feet and peeled off the disgusting orange bag, she focused on nothing else but the upcoming shower.

And it was wonderful.

Her aching muscles cried out in relief, shaking and threatening to drop her to the wet ground. She steadied against the wall and let the hot water pour over her body. Even looking down at herself, she could tell she looked ghastly. Not that she cared, it only served to try and crumble her resolve.

But she couldn’t crumble now.

Although maybe her resolve did weaken little bit right then, seeing as she surrendered herself to a good cry. One that V wouldn’t see.

He had to have seen all her cries, each time she begged someone to let her out of that cell. She had been so pathetic. But she’d been so _scared._ It wasn’t until Valerie’s--

Her eyes shot open against the water and she felt her resolve crumble just a bit more.

_Valerie._

Had she not been real either? Shaking her head, she let out a sob, feeling so very foolish. Her fist hit against the tile and she felt the need to scream. How many tricks could he pull on her? How much deception could she take? 

Maybe Valerie hadn’t been real, but she was real to Evey. The power of her words, the message her note had tried to teach her...That was what was important. 

Still, it hurt to be reminded of yet another detail V had tricked her into believing.

Shutting her eyes, she ran a hand across her shaved head, somehow enjoying the feeling. Even though losing her hair had been somewhat traumatic - as it made her feel incredibly vulnerable - she had stopped mourning it long ago. 

In fact, she had stopped mourning a lot of things in that cell. 

She had come to realize that she couldn’t change the past, she could only learn from it and grow stronger. The past couldn’t hurt her, not unless she let it. Just as V had said, she had discovered a lot about herself in that cell.

He had been right in a lot of things he had said.

Evey wished just as much as him that there had been another way, but deep down she knew there wasn’t another way to achieve something like that. The bruises on her body argued otherwise though. Again, it wasn’t the physical pain she experienced that hurt the most, it was the fact that V had done it all himself. He had played multiple roles and scared her beyond belief. He had violated her, emotionally and physically.

The question stood on the edge of her mind, one she didn’t even want to ask herself.

Had he enjoyed hurting her? 

The V _she_ knew? Unlikely. But he had put on such a convincing performance in her cell that she suddenly wasn’t so sure. It was another question she knew she’d have to ask him eventually, if only for her own sanity. 

\--------------------

V dreaded yet desperately awaited her return, knowing she deserved more than enough time to herself. Seeing her after he had revealed the truth had hurt him, but V had gone through so many pains for one lifetime already. Her hurt, her hate, they weren’t new emotions to him. He recognized that he deserved her fire, but it didn’t change his ideals or what he had done. His Evey, who would never truly be his much to his dismay, was stronger than she’d ever believed she was. He had lit the way for her, as brutal as it might have been.

What he had done came from a culmination of so many different things.

He didn’t know what to expect when she returned from the shower. V _wanted_ to help aid her, to assure her the nightmare was over and that he really meant her no harm. 

No _further_ harm at least.

What he had subjected her to would haunt him forever, but it was a price he was willing to pay without a second thought. Freeing Evey from the chains of her fear would be one of the only good things he could have done in this life, even if she hated him forever for it.

He would miss her though.

There was no doubt in his mind that Evey would leave him as soon as she was able, and he would not fight her on it. She had been given her free will, her strength, a new life that she could grab ahold of now. 

He would miss her smile, the way she cautiously bounced around the Gallery, silently observing each little artifact he had. He would miss _sharing_ his little world with her. She was different than anybody he’d ever seen, a companion he had never imagined having all of these years. He should be grateful, instead he found himself feeling selfish at the thought of her inevitable rejection.

There was no place in this world for both of them together.

He had a destiny already, a fate that had been set in stone long before she came along. But that didn’t make it hurt any less, and he knew his feelings no longer reflected how she felt about him.

Feelings were irrelevant now.

Lifting his head in the kitchen, he watched as Evey finally came into view. She moved slowly, her ankle clearly hindering her movements. He didn’t make any move towards her, allowing her to take as long as she needed. Her brown eyes burned like fire when they landed on him, angry and dreadfully _sad._

He knew that in a different situation, had he not been her tormentor, she would’ve cried to him. She couldn’t do that given the fact that he had been the one to bring about her pain. She had nobody but herself.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“I’m not even sure what to feel.” She replied lowly, taking a few more steps to the table so it could help support her.

“Evey,” She narrowed her eyes as he spoke her name, which caused him to hesitate.

“Please, let me help tend to your ankle. It will only worsen.” His tone disguising his desperate plea. 

She glanced down at her ankle, circling it slowly. He expected her to refuse, to snap at him.

“Alright..”  
  
He hoped she didn’t hear his sigh of relief as he slowly made his way towards her, gripping her elbow softly as he helped her up to sit on the table. She now wore dark cargo pants with a gray t-shirt. She had only agreed to his help because she didn’t have much of a choice. 

Crouching down on one knee, he took her foot delicately into his hands. She simply watched, her body vibrating with emotion.

He twisted it slowly in his hand, running his gloved fingers all across the tendon and bone. Even through the mesh covering his eyes, he could see the swelling and discoloration.

“You did that.” She pointed out.

He paused his movements, unwilling to become derailed by her comment. 

“I did.” He answered, subtle shame lacing his voice, but he didn’t dare try to defend himself.

“You did that for nothing. You didn’t even ask me anything, you simply did it because you wanted to. Do you remember that?” Her voice was even, but there was no mistaking the hurt and venom behind her words.

Releasing his hold on her foot, he rose to stand, looking down to meet her gaze. Even despite the height difference, she seemed unfazed, as if challenging him. 

“I remember it all, Evey.”

  
  
They held each other’s gaze for many moments, and he waited for her next reminder of all that he had done. But she kept her lips shut in a thin line, and so he gave her a timid nod before turning to go and get some supplies. 

When he returned, she seemed more defeated, exhaustion clearly overtaking her. 

“I can fix you something in a moment if you’d like.” He offered, wrapping her ankle tightly now. 

She said nothing for a few moments, it wasn’t until he looked up at her face that he realized she had silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes refused to even glance at his mask, she felt awful staring at that Fawkes grin.

Sighing, he lifted his hands from her ankle and brought his hands to hers. She didn’t resist his touch or his comfort, and before he knew it she was sobbing loudly while he gathered her in his arms. He simply let her cry, wishing so desperately he could take away her pain. The very same pain he had caused her for months. 

“How - how could you,” She sucked in a breath, her chest rising and falling violently. “Do that to me?” She asked, nuzzling her face into his chest. He rubbed at her back, his mask falling as he pressed the porcelain cheek to the side of her head. 

“Did you enjoy it? Violating and torturing me?” She hissed, her voice turning poisonous. He leaned back, allowing their gazes to finally meet again as he kept close to her. 

“Of course not, I hated _every_ second of it.” He vowed, gripping her shoulders harshly. She didn’t seem to mind, feeling the weight in his voice. “But I wanted you to push yourself through, I wanted you to realize, just as I did, that you are stronger than you believe.” 

Shaking her head, Evey gave another sob before looking up at him with tired hatred. 

“I trusted you…”

  
  
_Oh Evey..._

After everything that had happened, she had trusted him. He had always claimed he would never hurt her, but instead he had become a nightmare to her. What bothered him even more was the fact that there were several points he couldn’t defend. 

The line that had stopped him from violating her _more_ in that cell had blurred after time. He had lost himself in it, finding an odd sort of pleasure in hurting her. It was something he would never admit out loud, but it clawed at his insides. His hand slid to cup her cheek, his head tilting to observe her. 

It wasn’t her fault that he was a monster.

Yet she had still suffered the consequences.

“Perhaps you should never have trusted me.”

  
  
Her eyes widened at him, another tear spilling over as they regarded each other. Pain seeped from both of them, swarming them in realization as she came to terms with what he was saying. She felt her heart sink in her chest, she had expected any other answer. Evey had come to the realization that she trusted him while at Gordon’s, when she realized she missed him and the Gallery.

She had always known he was dangerous, but her feelings had only grown fond of him over time. 

Had she been wrong? She knew from his voice and the way he moved, it wounded him deeply to cause her such pain. He took no real pleasure from it, and even though he was resolute in his belief that he had done something necessary for her, she could see his shame. He felt awful, but he had done it anyways.

  
  
Sighing, she shook her head and looked down. 

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you did...But a part of me is grateful that you did it, because now I don’t need you anymore.” She told him softly, the brutality of her words not unnoticed by V. He visibly flinched, taking a step back from her as she shuffled to move herself off the table. His chest tightened, and again he was thankful for the privacy the mask offered his face. But it was a harsh reminder that V was not a man, he was not meant to live the normal life of a man, and she would never care for him, especially now.

Bitterly, he wished that he could reverse time, that he could’ve simply left her alone after apprehending those Fingermen that harassed her. It was a selfish wish, because it only spared his own pain. Sure, she ached now, but her false imprisonment had changed her for the better, he was sure of it. 

Nodding to her, V allowed her to move past him and out of sight back to her room. He couldn't help but feel that there was so much left to say between the pair of them.

He needed to prepare himself to say goodbye to her, although his heart shook it’s head shamefully. 

This was for the best, she would be able to take care of herself now, and he could center himself on his plans for the fifth again. There was still so much to do, he should be grateful that he didn’t need to bother himself with worrying about her anymore.

Almost subconsciously, he found himself making his way towards the Wurlitzer, anguish filling him. 


	4. What Ifs and What Nots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> several little terms and quotes in this chapter were either used or inspired by Shakespearean content or other V for Vendetta related works I've read in the past!  
> The term Lady Revolution for Evey was directly inspired from @ NuriaSchnee 
> 
> ALSO I just finished reading the graphic novel and 100% recommend it. Quotes from that novel will also probably be incorporated in future chapters.
> 
> This entire chapter was heavily influenced by me listening to Once Upon a December from Anastasia a billion times. 
> 
> As always, I do not own any characters from the graphic novel/2005 film.

Returning to the Shadow Gallery after several months was no less difficult than the first time after V’s death. Even now, she was afraid to touch anything, afraid that she would somehow destroy the frozen image of this place with one wrong movement. It was colder than she remembered, so void of life or anything that made her feel at home. 

Evey frowned, noting just how empty the Gallery felt, she had reclaimed some of the art and literature, donating it to the newly founded government to share with the people. She imagined that was what V would have wanted. But she was selfish and kept several pieces down here for her eyes only. 

After the events of that unforgettable November the fifth, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to go down to the Gallery for weeks. Any reminder of V hurt, and at first she didn’t see the need to go back down there. It would only bring her bittersweet pain, and the heavy reminder that V would never be there to greet her ever again. Guy Fawkes masks were so common to see around London now, but none of them were  _ his _ . Surprisingly she adjusted to the phenomenon quickly, the reality of seeing Guy Fawkes across London like some sort of mascot. It only hurt to remind herself that none of them were him, and none of them ever would be. 

Of course, there were certain artifacts that had been recovered that were kept protected in vaults. Agent Finch was rather reasonable about these sorts of things. V’s belt and daggers had been recovered, found discarded on the sewage floor of an abandoned part of the Underground near Victoria’s tube tunnels. The same part where Creedy and his men had been found  _ discarded  _ as well, to no one’s surprise. 

Certain possessions of V’s had been stored away, and any weaponry or remaining explosives found in the Gallery had been removed too. 

So there only remained the art, the literature, and the insignificant ornaments of the life that once existed there.

Evey traveled about through the domes, her hands fluttering lightly against some of the frames she passed. When she finally came to the Wurlitzer, she rested her hand on the plastic glass, watching it quietly. This was by far her favorite part of the Gallery, the music brought so many fond memories to her and the man she had once danced with. 

He had once told her how many songs the Wurlitzer stored, and how he hadn’t danced to any of them...He had received a  _ single _ dance before his death. She could so easily picture them dancing to every damn song on the juke-box, forgetting the outside world and focusing only on each other. Evey would dance the night away with him if she could, she would do just about anything to experience the feeling of his arms around her again. She had always believed she had two left feet, but dancing with V came so naturally...

She missed him,  _ so dearly _ .

His death had hurt more than anything she’d ever experienced, she had learned to grow past her family’s demise, the hardships she’d faced, but losing V was something she was still adjusting to. In a world where she had finally learned to let go of her fear...She had watched the world take him away, it was just about the one thing she hadn’t prepared herself for.

On the surface she almost felt like she had no right to mourn him, she had left him by choice all those months ago. After he had imprisoned her, but her leaving was justified wasn’t it? Any sane person in her position would’ve done the same thing. Sometimes it occurred to her that she might not be as sane as she thought she was.

It was a cruel irony, because now she was kicking herself. Even though at the time she never could have imagined herself staying with V, she now wished she hadn’t wasted all that time. But it couldn’t be changed now, she had made her choice. 

Brown eyes trailed along to the piano in the center of the room, and almost like a dream she imagined him standing there. In the beginning, she had considered begging him to teach her. He would’ve said yes, he would’ve given her the world if she’d asked for it, though she didn’t know it then. A smile spread across her face as she remembered the times when being down here hadn’t been near as complicated as she imagined.

It was bittersweet to realize she had wasted so much time doubting and fearing a man who in reality had  _ loved  _ her. He had never wanted anything but the best for her, even if he didn’t know how to show it properly. 

He was no ordinary man by any means, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Frowning at herself, she played with the hem of her cardigan anxiously. 

He had loved her. 

It was a concept that felt impossible even while he lived, even while he echoed those words to her while he clung to life for just a few more moments. He had come back to her, fighting the Angel of death for several minutes just so he could say his goodbyes to her. It felt like a hammer to her heart, smashing it into pieces when she recalled his life slipping through her fingers.

She would never hear his voice again, never be able to tell him that she  _ did  _ love him in return. If she had any regrets, it would be that she hadn’t returned his love.

No, it wasn’t a regret necessarily. 

When he had made his confession, she hadn’t known how to feel.

Love? 

Love was such a foreign concept to her. Of course, Evey cared dearly for V, but despite everything she had been scared. She would not confess to something simply out of pity for a dying man and everything had happened so fast. But after everything that transpired, and she finally had a moment to reflect...She realized that she  _ did  _ love him. 

She loved the way his style and dialogue screamed drama, he added flair to every part of his life but at the same time he was brooding, calculating, and dangerous. He wasn’t someone to be underestimated. Evey loved that damned Fawkes grin and the way she could sometimes hear his own grin behind the mask. He was still a mystery in so many ways, but a mystery  _ she  _ had gotten to unravel over time. V had cared for her wellbeing since the moment he had discovered her in that alley, being harassed by the Fingermen.

They were linked together by fate, and now he was gone. 

Hadn’t she had enough tragedy? Hadn’t he as well? 

Sighing, she let her feet carry her towards the kitchen, still reminiscing in the old memories. 

At one point she remembered trying to cook something for V, after a very not-so-serious argument where V reminded her she was his  _ guest _ . V had believed that she shouldn’t waste her energy cooking for him, that it was not only his duty but his  _ hono _ r to prepare food for her. It had always made her laugh, it had always confused her. In the end he had finally relented, teasing her with a pout while she got to cooking.

Of course, her food had been less than adequate. No, it had been an outright disaster. 

V was ever the gentleman though, praising her for trying. 

Snickering to herself, Evey ran her fingers over the backrest of one of the chairs at the table. 

She loved this kitchen. 

She loved everything here.

Turning away, Evey ventured further into the Gallery. Her eyes stung, the desire to cry becoming almost overwhelming as she drowned in times long past. 

If V were here, what would he be doing? 

She imagined he would’ve been delighted to see her come down and visit. Despite everything, she knew now that she would always be welcome in the Gallery. Upon returning just before the fifth, V had been so surprised and grateful to see her. It felt like she had come home. 

She supposed she had.

The Shadow Gallery was her home in a weird sort of way. It would always be a part of her. 

But past all the memories on the surface, Evey wondered just what kind of life V would have subscribed to had he survived. 

It felt pointless to think about. He had never planned to survive the fifth, that much was clear. The way he’d spoken to her, his plans, his feelings...Had he ever even considered life outside of his goal? Outside of the anarchy he brought to London? 

Rounding the couch that still sat several feet in front of the telly, Evey sat. Her hands resting anxiously on her knees, she swallowed thickly and brought her eyes to center on the television.

_ He cared more about revenge than he did her. _

_ The Count of Monte Cristo _ .

She would never watch that film with him again, but it would always resonate with her. Looking away from the television, Evey wiped at her eyes. She had wrestled with her sadness for months now, and although anger tried to fight it’s way in too...It all came out to prove that simply missed him.

She didn’t have the energy to hate him.

If anything, she wished she could see him for just a minute longer. 

Not that it would matter.

Like a pitiful child, she had begged V to stay, giving him desperate promises of escape, of a life they could share together. That was the closest she had come to revealing her feelings for him, that was the only way she knew how to express them. 

In the end it hadn’t mattered, and sadly she understood why. He had been plotting the events of the fifth for years, blowing up Parliament, disposing of the party leaders, everything...It was too important. It would have been selfish for him to disregard all of that just for her. It angered her that he had been able to teach her how to let go of her fear, but not how to detach herself from her heart. 

Anger, sadness, grief, all those emotions rivaled fear. 

Those emotions drove him to become who  _ he  _ was. How had he not expected the same for her now?

Shaking her head, Evey stared around her, letting her emotions overcome her. Rising to her feet she lifted a leg, sending her foot straight through the television as it toppled over. The crashing echoed through the gallery and she rounded on her heel, swiping several books off the desk near the couch. Releasing a sob, she grit her teeth together and seethed, staring at the books now scattered on the floor. 

_ He should have planned better _ . 

A man as smart and cunning as V should have considered other options. 

He  _ should  _ have stayed. 

The people of London  _ needed  _ him, even now. Just because the party leaders of Norsefire had been taken down and Parliament destroyed...Not everything was fixed! The people saw him as a symbol, and where was he now? Still buried several feet deep under the rubble of Parliament. 

It had taken longer than anyone would’ve liked for teams to start cleaning up the heap of stone and glass that had made up the late Parliament building. Even now, a mess still remained. Agent Finch had taken the liberty of organizing the whole clean-up crew, but it was a slow process. 

And Evey dreaded it. 

One day they would recover his broken body, one day soon. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, tears slipped out and she resorted to a guttural scream of anger. 

The arrogant bastard had left her here alone.

Falling to her knees, Evey resentfully began to collect the books from the floor. Her gaze drifted to the broken television, and she sighed. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered but reorganizing the country into a new world.

It was what V had wanted, for her and the people to take hold of the reigns and direct the country somewhere else. He didn’t care about the legacy or the people he left behind.

Rising back to stand, she placed the books back on the stand and left the chamber. London would be stronger if he was here, he was so good at what he did.

The remnants of Norsefire were a constant threat, especially to her. 

Her face had received almost as much publicity as his over the past few years, ever since her face was recognized the night V blew up the Old Bailey. The people  _ knew  _ her face, and they knew V was dead. So naturally, they had turned to her as the alternate icon, the face of the Revolution. This had inevitably placed a target on her back, much to her displeasure.

Agent Finch had even teased her at times with the nickname  _ Lady Revolution _ .

V would have had a hoot hearing that.

She scoffed to herself in thought, trailing towards the exit that led into the tube tunnels she now knew so well. 

V’s memory would be immortalized by her and by the people. It was painful, but it strengthened her, she knew he would be proud of her. That thought alone carried her on day to day. He had been such a large part of her life, yet not as much as she would’ve liked. 

His death was a painful reminder that life carried on no matter what. 

Taking one last look at the Gallery behind her, Evey smiled, the image of V stuck to her mind as she shut the door behind her with all its locks.

_ Remember, remember, the fifth of November… _

She would never forget the man, nor the idea. 

She loved him dearly, for everything he had done for the country and for her. Was she crazy for that? To know just how conniving and twisted he could be, but still loving him anyway?

It probably was. But Evey didn’t care, she only wanted him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have the outline for 14 more chapters planned. lordt. I am so excited and hope you are too! Please leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter or the fic as a whole so far!


	5. The Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might edit this chapter more later, a lot of the sentences just don't flow as well as I'd like.  
> but I still hope you enjoy <3 i love the idea of finch and evey becoming close friends after the film
> 
> again, I own none of the characters from the movie or graphic novel.

**_2 Months Later_ **

“I thought we had progressed past the need for water coupons?” Evey groaned, pausing her fingers at her keyboard to look up critically.

Just ahead of her desk, Eric Finch paced by her door while scratching at the back of his head. His eyes drew to her solemnly. 

“Yes well, that all depends on how Representative Evans’ meeting goes with the ambassador next week.” He replied, not sounding the most confident. Evey’s brown eyes grew stern and flashed with warning. Agent Finch sighed and stepped towards her, hands now flattening on her desk as he leaned forward to stretch his back. 

“Evey, you know my department has nothing to do with all of that nonsense, it is your department’s job to understand how to handle these things and how to handle  _ people. _ ” He reminded her, running a hand through his dark hair stressfully. Evey leaned back into her chair, tilting her head as she snickered and shook her head.

“For someone in  _ charge _ of a lot of people, you were never much of a people person.” 

“Can’t argue with that.” He replied back with a smile, the comment hanging in the air between them. She crossed her arms, looking down thoughtfully before scooting back towards her computer. 

“Anyway,” She sighed, “I’ll make sure things go smoothly. We need that water supply.”   
  
Evey knew the stress of  _ water rationing  _ was weighing on the country’s back. Norsefire had ceased relationships with most remaining countries in Europe, and their lies and selfishness hadn’t helped with the equal water supply either. It was all very confusing, but that had been purposeful. 

After the height of the revolution, the new government had really begun forming itself and Evey’s face was still carried as a symbol of hope...She had been practically invited with open arms into the new line of officials. While Agent Finch still carried on in the detective and police force role, Evey took up a sort of Senatorial position. She was the voice of preservation, of communication and the one who would help to rebuild the country. For the most part she attended official meetings, gave lots of glorified speeches, and helped develop new bills to aid the country and its people. She didn’t  _ lead _ the country, she was in charge of no one, but she was used for what she saw as the greater good. A position within the new government was something that she’d been completely uninterested in at first, she simply wished to hide away and watch the people change things themselves. Just like V, she believed she had fulfilled her role in the revolution by pulling that lever on the train. 

She had been wrong, and the riots in the streets soon after had convinced her of that. 

V was no longer their active symbol, much to her displeasure. 

Evey decided it was a necessary burden to carry, and it would also help her keep an eye on government proceedings…

Over the past several months she had come to find that she actually trusted her colleagues, she trusted and supported the ones who wished to fix this once beloved country. She felt honored to be a part of it, and it was obvious that her responsibilities weren’t over yet. She was just as important to everything  _ now  _ as she was back in that tunnel.

She liked to think V would be proud of the progress that had been made.

Riots had ceased after a few months, the remnants of Norsefire retreating into hiding or giving up and accepting the new ways. Old openly Norsefire loyalists had been apprehended if seen as a threat, Eric Finch kept tabs on all of that. There were occasional stirrups, but again, that wasn’t Evey’s battlefield anymore. 

After meeting Finch back on the fifth, Evey and him had grown to be close friends and colleagues. They often communicated their findings on either side and sometimes Evey felt like he was the only one she could really trust should the new government turn out sour. They had similar pasts, and eventually she had even divulged her story with V to him. Most details she kept to herself of course, but he had learned that her involvement had never been genuine until much later. They’d laughed themselves half to death about the misconceptions they had about each other. 

It was good to have a genuine friend after everything that had happened.

“Are you nervous about the gala tomorrow?” Finch’s words broke through her thoughts and she stiffened, eyes rising to meet his gaze. 

“Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” She asked, eyes still wide as she scratched at the curls around her ear. 

Eric raised a brow at her, straightening up. 

“Because it's the First Revolution’s chance to make peace with all the world leaders that Norsefire burned away.” He reminded her flatly, as if it was possible she had forgotten. Evey scoffed dramatically and smiled at him before lowering her head into her hands on the desk and sighing.

“I know, I know.”   
  
“Evey, it’s going to be fine. You’ll get out there, you’ll dance, I’ll be running security.” He sat down across from her desk, gesturing as he spoke. 

“It’s just this is the first time this new government has held something like this, and the fact that the celebration of the fifth is just the day  _ after  _ tomorrow? It  _ is _ a lot in a very short amount of time.” 

Reaching forward, Finch placed a hand on hers, giving her a knowing look. 

“Ms. Hammond, I’ve never known you to fear a challenge.” He teased cautiously. She smiled, turning her hand over underneath his to give a small squeeze before returning her hands to her lap. 

“I think I’m just worried about something going wrong, it has been too quiet for too long…”    
  
“I told you, my agents have been scouring the interlink and we keep tabs on everything we can. It has been almost a year, and I think you like to forge just how violent things were in the beginning. We fought our fight. Not everyone has adjusted to this new life but...they’re not bloody stupid enough to try anything now.”    
  
“For someone who used to be a Norsefire party leader, I really think you’re underestimating Sutler’s supporters.” She grunted, looking away from him angrily. It was true, she didn’t have access to everything like Finch did...But it felt like the transition to a new government had been too smooth despite the riots. According to Eric’s partner, Dominic, the number of people that had gathered outside of Parliament that night had been completely overwhelming...But Evey hadn’t gotten to  _ see _ it. Had there really been that many people who supported V’s vision? If it was true, then perhaps a smooth transition  _ was _ more realistic than Evey believed.   
  
Sighing, she raised a hand lazily and brushed Eric away before he spoke again. 

“Either way, I have so much more to get done today, and I have to meet Liam at a certain time so, shoo.” She babbled, barely daring to look at Eric. He rose from his chair, shrugging and turning towards the door. 

“Alright, but you know I’ll have security tight tomorrow. Nothing bad is going to happen.” He assured, before leaving her to herself in the office. 

Evey licked her lips, watching the door shut to close behind him as she considered their conversation.

First Revolution was the name given to the political party that now resided as the country's government, named for obvious reasons and a constant reminder to everyone else of their severed ties to Norsefire. Evey believed in the government they were trying to establish.

In the end she didn’t know if V ever cared to think about what the country would be like after his revolution, just as long as Norsefire burned alongside Parliament. He had always been so straightforward in his views, never thinking past the goal...Never thinking of the consequences, not that he was here to deal with any of them, she was.

Perhaps that was another cruel torture V had left for her.

Scowling at her computer, Evey took in a deep breath. There was no point in dwelling over what V had or hadn’t intended. What was important was the here and now, and she was thrilled to contribute to the new life of the country, even if it was without him...

Almost by instinct now, Evey’s hand shot out to the phone the moment it began to ring violently on her desk, drawing it up to rest between her ear and shoulder as her hands returned to the keyboard.

“Good morning, this is Speaker Hammond.” She mused casually.

The response was so immediate it almost cut her of.

_ “Remember, remember, the fifth of November...” _

Evey’s face deadpanned, unamused as she listened to the spheal she knew so well. Absentmindedly, her hand came up from the keyboard to grip the phone as she centered her attention on the voice. 

“This is a _ government line _ ,” She began flatly, “whoever this is, it’s not--”   
  
“You left his body to rot underneath Parliament.” The voice cut her off.

Her eyebrows furrowed together angrily in surprise.

“Excuse me?”   
  
“Evey…”   
  
It sounded just like him, like V, it was unmistakable. 

“This isn’t funny.” She hissed.

“It isn’t meant to be, love. ‘Foul spoken coward, that thund’rest with thy tongue, and with thy weapon nothing dares perform’.”   
  
_ What? _ _   
_ _   
_ She remained silent, scowling, her gaze burning straight into her door. Evey knew it wasn’t V, it couldn’t be him, but the familiarity of the voice was haunting. It enraged her, tightening her chest. She had received  _ “prank calls” _ before, tempting and teasing her...sometimes even threatening her, she could only assume she should expect more due to the upcoming fifth.

“Oh, don’t ignore me dearest.... _ How I miss you. _ ”   
  
Practically slamming her phone down onto it’s receiver, Evey exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. Her teeth bared, she shut her eyes, shaking her head as her body hunched over the desk. Why? What had she done to deserve such torment? It hurt simply because of the similarity in their voice, how the voice tore at her heart with bare hands.

Swallowing thickly, she blinked away hints of wetness in her eyes before drawing the phone back to her ear and clicking a key. She waited until a voice on the other line picked up.

“Yes, Miss Hammond?”   
  
“ _ Every _ caller transferred to my office is to be monitored and cleared _ first, _ is that clear?”   
  
“Y-Yes, ma’am? Did something happen Evey?”   
  
She knew the secretary, a kind woman really, it was unusual for Evey to take on such a tone. 

“No. No, everything’s fine.”    
  
And just like that, it was over. Evey returned the phone to it’s receiver without another word before falling back into her chair. A hand cradled her forehead, and she sighed. Once the fifth passed, things would go back to normal.

Taking a few moments to collect herself and cast out all other emotions, Evey looked back to her computer.

Leaning forward, she typed away at her email to Representative Burton about the celebration of November 5th. It was a blessing and a curse that most of the responsibility for planning had fallen on her shoulders.

To everyone else, it made sense that celebrating that important date should be up to Evey, given her important role in it all.

To her, it was just a painful reminder of everything she had endured, lost, and what she would forever remember. Couldn’t she ever get a break? Still, it felt unfair to refuse. She felt a responsibility towards November 5th, it was her one and only day to publicly commemorate V. The people knew she had been linked to the masked vigilante, they even believed she had been a partner in his plans the whole time. She allowed them to believe whatever they wanted to believe, she knew the truth anyways. 

For a while, she had feared for her safety. News of V’s supposed death hadn’t spread for quite a while, so after Parliament’s destruction, Norsefire officials and Fingermen had taken to the streets in search of the pair of them. They wanted to destroy any other symbol of hope before the people really dug their claws into the broken Norsefire party. But most of the party leaders were dead, by V’s hand she had learned, and the riots that took to the streets from both sides were as terrifying as the ones during the Reclamation. 

Evey had participated, despite herself and despite the advice of others like Agent Finch.

Oh she’d been beaten, she’d been trashed and hurt. What she feared most was a potential kidnapping, or perhaps someone would simply walk up to her and put a bullet between her eyes. 

It was possible, yet it didn’t seem to scare her enough to turn her away from the fight.

In the end she had come out safe and most Norsefire supporters had been taken down. She knew so many of them still existed out there, rebel factions in hiding or Fingermen who had simply “ _ disappeared”. _

The fifth of November was the day after tomorrow, and it would be the first anniversary of that date. It was expected to be the biggest celebration the country had seen in decades. She was supposed to give a speech, though she was still trying to weasel her way out of it. The last thing Evey wanted was to stand at a podium and face the hundreds of V masks in the crowd. 

What she  _ wanted  _ to do was simply spend the entirety of the celebration on the sidelines with Liam and silently remember all that V had done. Which, if she was being honest, still sounded pretty painful.

Thankfully Liam was aware of her reservations on the matter. 

Liam Carter.

He had helped her at one of the riots all those months ago, they had grown to be friends. There was an attraction there from the start, the pair had been physically intimate but it had never grown past that for her. They were friends, and thankfully he seemed to respect that. Liam was kind, and held the same ideals she did. Evey didn’t know everything about his past but she knew Norsefire had been no kinder to his family than it had hers. 

He was her rock through all the emotional turmoil, despite his occasional anger issues and unreliability, he had always tried to understand her. To her surprise and relief, he had never cared to know much about V and part of her wondered if it was due to some type of jealousy.

Against her better self, she found herself wondering what V would think of him. But V wasn’t the trusting type, and she knew that V never would’ve trusted Liam no matter how strong her testimony would’ve been for the lad. 

Or even someone like Finch.

A small part of her grew giddy at the knowledge that her relationship to V had been special and irreplaceable.


	6. Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing V lit rally makes me nervous because he has a very distinct attitude/flair
> 
> again, no characters in this chapter are my own. hope you enjoy! feel free to leave reviews or ask questions :)

Eric leaned back in his chair, slowly rubbing his hands down his face as Dominic leaned over the side of his shoulder to see exactly what Eric was seeing on his screen. Stress had been brewing heavily in the air ever since Finch returned from Evey’s office earlier that day.

“So you _didn’t_ tell her?” Dominic asked.

“No, she’s stressed enough as is.” Eric replied, clearly frustrated as he relaxed in the chair. Dominic straightened up, adjusting his suit coat as he sighed through his nose. The pair were rather speechless, conflict thick in the air. 

“Perhaps she’d be happy to know?”

  
  
“I think the _happy_ would come right after the anger, grief, and hurt.” Eric snapped, resting his elbows on the armrests. On the screen in front of them showed a high-resolution screenshot from a camera situated on the corner of Sixth Street, giving a snippet of the alleyway just to the right of the corner lot.

Zoomed in, the camera had caught a drastically impressive image of a Guy Fawkes mask. The image itself wouldn’t have stood if it weren't for other factors as of late. 

Firstly, the image was taken from the dark of the night, adding suspicion already. It was also important to note that a suspicious security breach in security audio had been discovered recently. The code was familiar, everything about the security breach was familiar to what Eric himself had dealt with during their chase last year. 

“How do we know those aren’t fake? Replicas?” Dominic asked, pointing to the screen.

Eric eyed the daggers lining the figure’s waist, glinting in the sliver of moonlight that highlighted their very _specific_ designs. The agent lifted his head to look up at his partner.

“Because I checked the vault myself last night.”

  
  
“They’re gone?”

  
  
Eric nodded his head solemnly, lips thinning to a line. 

Dominic’s head fell and he gave a groan of frustration again, unsure of what to think or what to say. 

“If that is him, then we need to consider our next steps.” Eric mused, shaking his head in disbelief at the screen.

Evidence that V was alive continued to show itself as of late, at first Eric hadn’t wished to entertain the idea. If anything, Dominic seemed more than eager to prove whether V was alive or not, despite his own doubts. The information was dangerous, and as such, it wasn’t to leave the office. 

“Do you think he plans to reveal himself to the public?” Dominic asked suddenly, contemplating V’s line of thought.

“No...I don’t think that’s his intention…”  
  
“They still haven’t recovered a body from the Underground, have they?”   
  
Eric rose from his chair, clicking away from the camera footage as he rounded the desk. 

“No, but in light of this footage, I plan to go and have a chat with the team party later today. Last I checked they had recovered and cleared a significant amount of the tube. I don’t know what to think anymore though. If he doesn’t want us to find him, we won’t.” Finch stammered, knowing from experience that chasing after V was a pointless effort.

Codename V was an enigma, he was dangerous, and apparently, he was alive.

“Perhaps Evey could find him? Draw him out? Get the inside scoop?” Dominic suggested hopefully, trailing slightly behind Finch as the superior gathered his coat from the hook. 

“I’m not dragging her into this unless it’s absolutely necessary, poor girl has been through enough.” He snapped back decidedly. 

“How do we know she doesn’t know yet? Maybe V has already sought her out, sworn her to secrecy.”  
  
“That isn’t likely, I’m not sure how I know but...I know. Evey doesn’t know anything about this and it’s going to stay that way.” Eric pointed to Dominic in warning. His partner raised his hands up innocently, shaking his head sorrowfully. 

“Alright, alright, if you say so boss. But I’m telling you, I think she deserves to know.”  
  
Eric gave him a knowing look, adjusting his collar before heading for the door of the office. 

“Just make sure you lock up once you’re done.”   
  
After receiving a nod from his partner, Eric quickly made his way back out into the streets of London. It was sunset, dusk settling over the city as Finch made his way through the streets which were slowing down as more people retreated to their homes. Although curfew was non-existent, it seemed to remain a habit with most people. Traveling cautiously, Finch always found him looking over his shoulder.

Considering the situation, Eric thought about his own recollection of interactions with V. It was true, he’d never truly spoken with V unless one counted the time inside the St. Marys memorial. That particular experience still nagged at him, it had been embarrassing just how thoroughly Finch had been fooled. Of course, V’s story had been true, as Finch later learned...But still, the trickery behind it all had been enraging. In the end, it had served its purpose though. Sutler had been a fool to underestimate V’s cunning and skill, in the end, it had cost Sutler his life.

What had always surprised Agent Finch was the discovery of Sutler’s body in the Underground. All the men down there had been fatally stabbed or slashed, Creedy had been found with a broken hyoid bone, slumped on the ground from clear strangulation. 

But Sutler, found with a Scarlet Carson stored in his suit coat with a gunshot wound to his head.

None of that made sense. 

It had been expected that Sutler would have suffered from poison, or even a stab to the heart. But no stab wounds had been found anywhere on Sutler’s body. It was peculiar. It suggested that V and Creedy, or maybe one of Creedy’s men had been working together. As outlandish as the idea seemed, Finch had to admit it was a possibility. 

Nearing November the fifth, Creedy had been trying to balance on his last legs when it came to Sutler. He could have been desperate enough to engage V.

Licking his lips, Finch turned down towards one of the stairwells that led to the Underground. Guarded off by barriers and tape, Finch maneuvered past them and pulled a flashlight from his trench coat. Descending down the narrow stairs, he had to creep through the debris that watched over the tube station. Squinting his eyes, the lack of noise was deafening and he felt suddenly very uneasy.

Had the recovery party retired so soon?  
  
Grunting in annoyance, Finch traveled forward, having not been down here in quite a while. He had never been able to properly convey to Dominic how it had felt to go down into those tunnels and discover Evey at the train. It was an experience he would carry for his entire life, and the first time he had been able to stand back and let change tear the country apart with bare hands.

Darkness was not his ally, he felt dwarfed in the tunnels as darkness surrounded him. The occasional drip of liquid sounded in the distance and Finch wondered just what had been occurring down here. A shiver rolled down his spine and he stopped in his tracks, gliding the flashlight around for a moment before lowering it.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he hesitated. Perhaps it was worth it to try something.

Clicking the flashlight off, Finch begged his eyes to adjust in the darkness but he couldn’t even see his own hand if it was right in front of his face. 

“V?”  
  
His voice betrayed him, confessing his uneasiness as he called the name into the open air. If the vigilante _was_ down here, watching, then perhaps the bargain of complete darkness would entice him to reveal himself. If V was paying attention to the state of things, like Eric believed he was, then V had to be aware of his role in it all, right? Eric was a friend to Evey, he had no intentions of tricking V or betraying the country.

Only silence met him and he felt even smaller. 

“V.”  
  
There was a pause, and the agent held his breath, looking around frantically despite his lack of vision. The desire to turn his flashlight back on was increasing quickly.

He couldn’t even tell what direction the accompanying voice suddenly came from, it surrounded him like some sort of predator.

“Inspector Finch.”  
  
His voice was cold but intrigued as though encountering an unexpected guest. Finch’s apparent shock hung in the air for a long silent moment.

“I-...” He paused, unsure. “So, you _are_ back.”   
  
“‘ _One foot on sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never’_.” The other replied simply as if his words made perfect sense.

Finch swallowed, his body as rigid as stone.

“I didn’t expect to discover you here, like this. And I’m sure it wasn’t _your_ intention to discover me either.” The agent confessed, swaying uneasily on his feet.

“No...But you have information I desire nonetheless, therefore this meeting has now become a commodity.” His voice sounded significantly closer now, and Finch could hear the slow click of his boots across the stone. 

“Information?” Finch drawled defensively, stiffening. 

“Allow me to alleviate your worries, Detective,” V’s voice was not kind, it was calculating and dare he say _amused._ “I have other means to retrieve the information I seek if you wish to remain uncooperative, but I assure you I _will_ retrieve the information.”

  
  
“Is that a threat?”

  
  
“It is a simple _warning_ , Detective.” He sighed tiredly. “I mean you no ill will, seeing as your position within the new government has been vital to the renewed freedom in this country. However, I am not here to discuss pleasantries.”

Swallowing again, Finch considered this. It wasn’t as though he had a choice, and a relatively hesitant part of him trusted that V meant nothing ill of any information Finch could give him. 

“How do I know it’s actually you?” He asked cautiously, his finger hovering above the click on his flashlight.   
  
“You don’t, there could be anyone under his mask, but _I leave such judgements to you, Inspector_.” V hissed, unamused by the waste of time. Both of them were transported back to the memories of a once previous interaction, similar to this one. Except V had been in disguise and it was V who had been feeding the agent information, not the other way around. Finch's chest tightened at the implications of his words, the remembrance of their past interaction.

The flashlight blared a large circle at the ground as Finch clicked it back on, lifting it quickly to illuminate V’s figure which was much closer than Finch originally assumed. Flinching, Eric stumbled a bit as the two took each other in. Staring at him like a ghost, Eric stood and observed V in his usual attire.

A black cape covered most of his form, but was unmistakably angled to remind Finch that he _was_ armed. The bloody Fawkes grin that Finch had grown so accustomed to seemed _different_ on V himself, it felt more sinister and serious, the wig and hat settled perfectly on his head as always. 

Nodding, Finch steadied his footing again, swallowing thickly. There was no use trying to hide the fact that Finch was indeed intimidated, who wouldn't be?

  
  
_A fool, that's who..._

“What is it you want to know?”

  
  
“I know of the situation your force faces concerning the upcoming delegation proceedings, what I don’t know is why you haven’t moved to establish a proper defensive strategy for the events being held over the coming days.” V stated, not moving an inch.

“We are still investigating into a rumor found through a coded section of the Interlink-”

  
  
“Yes, I am aware of that as well. What is being done about that?”

  
  
Finch hesitated, frowning. “Well, we haven’t confirmed any legitimacy to a rumor of an attack, and we can’t locate the source of the ping.”

  
  
“It’s a futile effort to try and find the source now, what you need now is a strategic defense.” Even underneath the mask, Eric could tell V was glaring at him. The patience strung between them was thinning. 

“Look, if you want to try and run my d-”

  
  
“Detective Finch, I have no desire to play with your department again, I’ve enough experience to know that you should be working to _defend_ instead of giving _chase_.” V stepped towards Finch, his figure rather menacing as he spoke evenly.

Silence hung between them and Finch bitterly acknowledged the stabbing reminder. His department had worked their asses off to try and locate Codename V, their failure had been embarrassing to say the least. V was as evasive as he was infuriating. 

“What do you suggest then?”  
  
Eric wasn’t going to entertain the idea of asking V _why_ he cared about the looming threat. Evey was a part of that delegation, she was to attend the gala _and_ the celebration of the fifth. Eric wasn’t stupid enough to wonder if V was aware of this fact, V was always three steps ahead of them it seemed...even now.

“‘ _War gives the right to the conquerors to impose any condition they please upon the vanquished’...._ Your security must not underestimate the enemy.” V advised strictly, folding his arms over his chest. 

Finch nodded slowly in response, regarding the other thoughtfully. It was a curious thought that if V ever decided to serve his department, the new government would be nearly unstoppable. Finch had no idea how or why V had the skills he had - apart from what he had discovered in that journal so long ago - but his skills were useful as well as dangerous. Although the systems of the Nose and the Ear had changed during the transition period to the First Revolution, the systems had still been easy for someone like V to hack into. He had eyes and ears wherever he desired…

“Alright...What else?”

  
  
V tilted his head curiously, apparently thinking while the silence hung in the air for a while.

“...Nothing, for now. I bid you farewell, Detective.” He turned on his foot, perfectly content with leaving the conversation as is. It was an abrupt ending to the conversation and genuinely surprised him.

“Wait!” Finch stepped after him, unsettled. “What are you planning? It’s a dangerous idea to reveal yourself to the people after so long.” He warned.

V stopped in his tracks, his head hanging low. 

“My role was fulfilled on the fifth, my place is not among the people.” He assured Finch with a nod, signaling that he was finished with the conversation yet again. Finch narrowed his eyes, remaining in place.

“So it’s just Evey then?” He called, cautiously testing those waters. 

Even through the darkness that began to consume V in the tunnel, Finch could see the moment of hesitation in his movements before he fully engulfed himself into black. 

V moved hurriedly, ignoring the clenching he felt around his heart at the mention of Evey’s name. He would not be goaded.


	7. Gala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo, updates are going to come a bit more slowly (for those of you who are keeping up with this fic)
> 
> classes started back up so I have very limited time/energy to write chapters.
> 
> BUT NEVERTHELESS, I present another chapter to you. I am not super satisfied on how this was written,,,,but oh well.
> 
> for reference, I see Evey's dress looking like none other than Natalie Portman's 2020 Oscar's dress <3  
> for V, I see something along the lines of this -----> https://www.pinterest.com/pin/95560823332895076/ (but obviously with gloves and every inch of skin hidden still)
> 
> Hope you enjoy! As always, I do not own Evey, V, or Eric Finch

  
She’d had so much time to prepare for the day yet none at all. 

Smoothing down the front of her dress, Evey sucked in a deep breath and looked to the mirror again. 

“Are you ready?”

The voice came from her doorway, startling her half to death as she jumped and turned. Her eyes landed on Liam in the doorway and she exhaled with a laugh.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m coming.” She confessed, walking steadily towards him. He smiled warmly at her, offering a hand as they turned away from the vanity room. Today was the delegation ball as well as the celebration of November the 5th. 

As intricate as her black and gold gown was, it was surprisingly comfortable. Evey quickly looped her arm around Liam’s as they descended down the hallway towards the open space of the building where more guests had gathered. The theme had been suggestively "masquerade" but not everyone had chosen to participate in such endeavors. Evey, for one, had no desire to wear a mask.

“You look absolutely stunning, you know that, right?” Liam whispered to her, his voice friendly and encouraging. He knew how difficult the day was for her, he had been as attentive as ever to her emotional state. Leaning slightly into his touch, Evey smiled and nodded. 

“Thank you.”

The ball was hosted within the newly declared Parliament building, allowing the guests to break in the new floors and such. Evey had no love for the building if she were being honest, but it was very nicely built. The rubble of the old Parliament building was obviously irreversible. Next to Liam, the pair made their way down the marble staircase. Some heads turned their way, everyone dressed oh-so nicely. Some guests did bare masks, much to Evey’s displeasure...As some of those masks happened to be Guy Fawkes. It wasn’t an odd sight, but it definitely did nothing to calm her nerves. Half of the countries’ delegates were to attend the public communion of the fifth in just several hours, it simply made sense that some should wear Guy Fawkes face.

Swallowing deeply, Evey stiffened as she got an eye for all the people. The music, classical and melodic, played above the voices echoing off the walls. Each invited guest was encouraged to bring a plus-one, thus explaining Liam’s attendance.

To be honest, she was incredibly relieved that he was able to accompany her, she didn’t know if she could face this alone. Going to any large gathering shook her up a bit, there was never any telling what could happen. 

She had to remind herself that Finch was here somewhere. Even now, she could see security posted around several points in the assembly hall.

“Evey?”

The voice broke her thoughts and she looked to Liam, who apparently had been speaking to her given the look on his face. 

“Er - yes?” She asked, brows furrowing with guilt.

“I asked if you wanted to dance?” He narrowed his eyes in confusion, an amused smirk gracing his features. 

Flushing, Evey nodded quickly and his hand slid up to grasp her own. In reality, she knew it would be wise to make her rounds around the edge of the hall, making small talk with her colleagues or visiting delegates. The negotiations had gone rather well, she had only been in sitting attendance. But alliances had been made, more importantly, progress had been made and she couldn’t have asked for more.

Everyone seemed in good spirits.

Following Liam into the crowd, Evey smiled genuinely and stuck closely to him as they found their own space amongst the others. Spinning her around, Evey looked up to his own green eyes, the both of them naturally swaying into the motion of the dance almost immediately. She was grateful for his easy-going nature at times like these, he really was a wonderful friend.

Even with the motions, Evey tripped over his feet on occasion, embarrassing her greatly. 

At least nobody else is noticing…

As the darker waltz came to its end, Evey tugged at Liam’s arm and nodded her head towards the edge of the crowd. It was just then that a lady in a red gown came up behind Liam, looking absolutely curious. Raising a brow, Evey watched as the girl asked her friend to dance, and with soft relief and encouragement, Evey nodded excitedly to him.

How wonderful would it be for Liam to actually find someone else to moon over. 

Giving him an amused wave, Evey gripped at her dress to allow her feet more room to move as she hurried out from the crowd. Finding the edge, she stuck close to the wall. Catching her break and watching the people move around her, she smiled in thought. It truly was a time of peace, wasn’t it? In this little bubble of relief, she was allowed to relax for just a moment. 

A mismatch of color caught the corner of her eye and she turned her head to see Eric heading towards her, looking like his usual self. The man hadn’t even tried to dress up for the occasion. Reaching her arms out, the pair embraced and she gleamed at him. 

“Good to see you, how’re things?” She asked, nodding her head towards the crowd. 

Eric scoffed in amusement and leaned against the wall with her to observe the crowd that neither seemed too keen to suffocate in. 

“Looking good so far, and I dare say you look smitten, you might have outdressed half the Brits here.” He replied, giving her a bright look as he waved to her dress as well. Shimmying her shoulders, Evey smiled and shrugged.

“I do try sometimes!”

The pair stood in silence, content with observing the crowd as they danced away.

“It baffles me how many Guy Fawkes masks are in the crowd,” He stated suddenly, his voice flat. She looked to him, raising a brow before looking back to the crowd. Her eyes scanned it slowly, her lips parting to respond in agreement before her gaze landed on a pair dancing in the distance. A young woman dressed in maroon danced slowly with another, the Fawkes mask radiating brightly even from a distance. 

Her words were lost on her tongue, his jet black and gold attire nearly complimenting hers stood out. Evey’s eyelids fell as she simply stared, watching the two dance with such familiarity it hurt. She remembered a time where she had danced with her V like that, slowly and deliberately. A thoughtful frown crossed her features and it wasn’t until the Fawkes mask came into frontal view that his movements significantly stiffened. Even as his body turned slowly, his gaze remained matched with her for as long as possible without seeming too out of place.

“Yes...It is.” She finally replied, agreeing with Eric. 

The agent watched her, following her gaze into the crowd in question. Licking his lips, he felt a sense of dread overcome him. It didn’t take a genius to guess what she was thinking, the sight of any Fawkes mask must immediately draw upon memories for her. The fact that he knew V was alive, and keeping tabs on everything, only weighed more heavily on his shoulders while he stood beside Evey.

It would’ve been right to tell her, she did deserve to know. But not now, it wasn’t the right time.

Before the pair could even continue into more conversation, the current piece had ended and Evey barely had a moment to collect herself before the figure appeared before them. Even taller than she had realized, Evey’s eyes went wide as the man she had been observing extended a hand to her. 

“A dance, Miss Hammond?” His voice was deep, and he clearly wasn’t British. Her gaze flickered to Eric and his expression gave nothing away. She felt stone’s holding her feet down, her gaze raking over his impressively gorgeous suit. The Fawkes mask bore holes into her, awaiting her answer as the energy buzzed around them. Her lips hung open in surprise, the shaggy hair surrounding his mask also distracting, it framed the mask oddly well.

“I -” She blinked at him, guilt pooling in her stomach. It felt wrong to dance with someone like this man, wearing a Fawkes mask, reminding her of her lost beloved. It was too much all of the sudden and she was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t until a deafening boom sounded in her ears, the marble beneath them shaking as screams suddenly erupted through the assembly hall. Her arms shot out to steady her, eyes wide in shock as she straightened up to try and see what had happened. The man before her swerved around, clearly searching for the apparent cause of commotion as well.

The music was drowned out by the rush of people suddenly moving with purpose, screams and cries growing louder as dust clouded the air. Evey could see the opposite wall crumbling, a gaping hole in the center. 

What?

Before she knew it, she heard Eric shout a warning ‘Get down!’ before she felt another violent explosion to her left. Hands shot to her ears, the deafening sound ringing in her head as she felt chunks of marble fall against her. A hand shoved her down to a crouch, and she shut her eyes, fear crawling through her. 

Bombs.

Her chest tightened, and before she knew it - the shooting started. 

At whom, she didn’t know. But her fear skyrocketed and against her better self, against all of V’s teachings, she felt rooted to the floor in fear. 

Her fingers clawing at her skull as she kept her head down, still crouching as Eric tugged at her arm. It was only moments before she felt strong arms rope underneath her, maneuvering her body into a bridal style carry. Evey’s brown eyes shot open in shock as she was greeted with the same Fawkes grin she knew well. Dust covered the air, the movement of people becoming a blur. There was fighting, and she heard shooting - right? Everything was so loud. 

She couldn’t think.

Eric was nowhere in her line of sight, and the urge to shove herself out of this stranger’s grip was instinctive. 

_“Let go-!”_

His grip only tightened and she felt unease crawl through her like fire, her anger suddenly sparking as she threw a fist to the mask, it's hard exterior hurting her hand in the process. But it had unsettled the stranger enough, so Evey rolled out of his grip and to the ground while the man stumbled backward. Her hands flat against the marble, she lifted her head, moving in a desperate crawl to get away and up before another figure in a blackened Fawkes mask appeared - how was he so close? His shoes barely a foot from her body. 

When had she lost her senses? Everything had happened so fast and-

Evey froze, barely able to register the gun in the other’s hands before the butt of it was slammed into her the side of her skull. Her consciousness surrendered itself in light of the blow and her head fell to the ground immediately.

It took half a second for V to adjust his footing, somehow startled by Evey’s resistance as she had effectively wormed her way out of his grasp. Within the same few seconds, he had been subjected to the sight of the girl falling unconscious, knocked out cold by the hilt of a gun from a man who dared wear his face.

Not only _wearing_ it, but a _defiled_ version of it. 

Flying at the other in one swift motion, the two were soon on the ground, V’s hands around the smaller man’s neck. His grip did not relent, in fact it was tight enough to bulge the man’s eyes out significantly. With his weight on top, the rebel had no advantage to the struggle. It would've been a terrifying sight to bypassers had they not been so distracted with escape. But there would be no escape for this one. 

V wasn’t satisfied until the very quick and familiar snap of the hyoid bone sounded. 

Practically seething behind the mask, V’s head shot to look over his shoulder, his cape half draped over Evey’s body. With the surrounding chaos, V moved quickly, his actions deliberate as he again scooped Evey back into his arms. 

Through the mask, his eyes looked back and forth before he moved to blend with the portion of the crowd running out the archway. She was motionless in his arms, and had he known any better, he would’ve worried she was dead. 

But the lazily unconscious reactions her body had told him otherwise, her head toppling about until he adjusted his grip to have her skull lean against his bicep.

_The Shadow Gallery...she’d be safe there…_

He was yet again faced with another decision. V had attended this amateur ball for one reason and one reason only, to offer his own surveillance and protection...for Evey.

It had always been for Evey, hadn't it?

If he left her to the Shadow Gallery, she would know or at least suspect him. His existence would be clear, if not heavily suggested...But it was the only way to ensure her safety. Her safety was paramount. The desperation in his logic clung to his heart painfully.

A growl rumbled in his chest as he squeezed through the people fighting their way out the exits. It was easy to blend into this crowd, something he was unused to. It wasn’t until he had rounded a corner, shielded by the dusk befalling London, that he was stopped in his tracks.

“Stop! Stay where you are!” A voice shouted several feet behind him, at the head of the alleyway.

The mask turned, signaling its acknowledgment.

_The Chief Inspector..._

“Not a step farther! Turn around _slowly_ , and release her.” V didn't know whether he was pleased or not to hear the Inspector sounding so furious.

“She isn’t safe here.” He hissed, turning to face the other with Evey still in his arms.

V wasn’t surprised to find a gun aimed straight at him, though it lowered as Finch immediately seemed to recognized the original voice V reverted to. 

“You…” Finch grunted, looking over his shoulder for any nearby persons before moving quickly towards V. “Christ, I thought you were a bloody rebel making off with her, I caught sight of you just as you were leaving.” 

V tightened his grip around her, almost defensively. He remained silent.

“You can’t take her with you-” Finch began, looking at him knowingly.

“And you’re going to stop me?” He asked, almost amused at the implicated warning.

Finch sighed in frustration and looked to Evey.

“We both know I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. But you need to trust me, this isn’t right for her. If you take her back to that place, she’s going to be trapped in your world yet again.” He warned.

_What if I want her back in my world? Is that so selfish to want her? To want to protect her?_

“I wouldn’t have to if she was adequately protected!” He snapped, mask dipping low.

“Think about what you’re doing...” Finch hissed, eyes narrowing.

V looked down, his Evey looking as peaceful as ever in his grasp. How he wanted to hold her forever, to protect her and tell her when she awakened how much he had missed her...

But he had forgotten himself. He hadn’t stayed away all these months to steal her away out of selfish desire. Yes, it was about protecting her but it was so much more than that…Even _he_ had to acknowledge that. 

His mind scrambled with indecision as he weighed his options, knowing it was not his place to make this decision for her. V had no life above ground with her, and she had no place hiding below ground with him _again_. What she needed, what she deserved, was to find happiness above ground with others like her. He was her past, not her future. 

Finch was right.

Fighting the urge to draw her closer towards his form, to hold her tightly for just a moment longer...V moved towards the Inspector. Almost like trading her off, V watched bitterly as Finch took his Evey into firm arms. Swallowing, V narrowed his eyes behind the mask, chasing away the thoughts of longing and grief. 

Again he reminded himself that her place was above ground, not confined with him. He had _tried_ not to prowl on her personal life, but he knew of her beau, he knew of her role within the new government. He knew practically everything. 

It was selfish of him, of course, but the sin was his own. 

Stepping back, the two simply observed each other. Even behind the mask, Finch could sense his anger.

“Are you going back there?” V asked the Inspector.

“I have to, the situation _should_ be under control by now,” V snorted at the declaration, Finch promptly ignored it. “But she will be taken care of, I promise.” 

V stared, giving a simple nod. This attack would not be taken lightly by himself or by the new government, and he knew he had more digging to do. He was a fool to trust that the Inspector would have everything under control…If the rebels were deciding to make their existence known, he would make sure to extinguish it. They were all fools, but then again, they didn’t know the threat that lingered in the shadows. They didn’t know that V lived and that his appetite for vengeance was never-ending. Monsters rarely knew how to abandon their ways, and V was no different. What was he if not someone who knew how to use violence to destroy the unjust? That was all he had ever been.

“I will _not_ be leaving the situation untouched.” V vowed darkly, turning on his heel. Finch watched as the other disappeared into the shadows of the alleyway. 

Eric wouldn’t have expected otherwise. V was anything if not attracted to revenge, he thrived off of it. Sometimes he wondered if the desire for vengeance was what kept V alive. He only prayed that V would not let his emotions control his actions, but yet again, that was what had driven him to murder so many party members. His personal vendettas against them had been the reason for their demise. If Eric needed to, he would get his unit involved, despite everything it was clear that V was dangerous and he feared it would lead to catastrophe. Giving a glance down to Evey, Eric sighed and turned on his own heel to head quickly back towards the action of it all.

After everything he had seen from V recently, one thing was dreadfully clear: V still loved Evey Hammond. He feared that would be the reason for _her own_ downfall.

Things were going to change, V’s secret couldn’t stay hidden from Evey forever.


	8. The truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!
> 
> I'm so excited to bring you this update...we're so close to a reunion!!!
> 
> I want to express to everyone that my version of V is meant to reflect the...flaws in his character still. He is an anti-hero and yes he is meant to come off as a bit irrational and possessive towards Evey. He is definitely not a perfect guy altho I still love him 
> 
> Also I LOVE comments, they keep me going and really motivate me! So thank you to everyone who comments :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Again, I do not own any characters in this story except Liam, thank ya

There were so many inconsistencies with the Shadow Gallery now that Evey had come to occupy it herself. It was incredibly easy for V to notice every changed detail, every shifted painting. After closing himself off down here for so many years, he had come to memorize every inch of the Gallery in his mind. Even without eyes, he was confident that he could've navigated his steps without flaw. 

His cape fluttered with him as he moved throughout the Gallery, taking note of its current state. Hearing his boots click against the stone was a familiarity he always missed. It was a solid opportunity to visit his old home again, knowing that Evey was more or less indisposed. He took almost every opportunity to come down here, times when he knew that running into her was impossible.

This wasn’t his home anymore, maybe it would never be. A part of him still lived here, but it was hard to imagine coming back to this tunnel on a regular basis. 

No.  
  
After his miraculous escape from death, something he still didn’t understand but did not dare question, he had resided to hiding with an old friend.

One who would keep his secrets with no qualms or dangerous curiosity. 

V came against the old jukebox, his gloved fingers running over the plastic glass. The cape that hung over his shoulders was not his usual woolen one, nor was the outfit he still wore from the gala. The lighting around him flickered in imagined disapproval at his unusual and intricate attire. The whole ordeal had left him so angry that coming back to the Gallery only felt natural. Despite everything, his once-home brought him relief, it had been his one true sanctuary. He sucked in a deep breath, recalling the events that happened so recently.

He knew, if anything, that Evey would be a whirlwind of fury when she woke from her injuries. He would have to make sure she did indeed wake, though the blow to her head hadn't been close to fatal. It was an unfortunate yet necessary habit for him to keep tabs on her, that was about all he did outside of keeping an eye on rebel activity. But he had to make sure she was _safe._ There were so many out there who wished her harm, and if he couldn’t openly protect her then he could at least watch from the shadows. She would understand if she knew what he did.

Despite everything he had taught her, she had never truly learned how to fight. She had never learned half the dangerous skills he possessed, she didn’t know about the threats that loomed just above her head. After her imprisonment, any desire to bring her pain had ceased to exist. V hadn't wanted to lie to her, to brutalize her, to teach her any more lessons. Now he regretted that, he should've taught her more, should've shared more.

_You never had the time to show her._

Finch was less than a reliable form of protection, he had to bitterly acknowledge this information.

The feeling nagged at him, because truthfully he knew that feeling such responsibility towards Evey was unhealthy, it was dangerous and unfair to her. But he had been given a second chance at life, his soul had desperately sought out another purpose since his previous one had been fulfilled. Without a mission, without some sense of duty, he was nothing. The man that resided in his body had taken a stronger hold of him and this was the only way to combat that. That was what he used as an excuse. 

But he knew he had simply never felt the way he did about anyone else before.

It reminded him so much of Valerie. She was perhaps the only one he'd ever come close to loving like Evey. The pair were so similar at times it left him befuddled. Both were clever and strong, they'd lost so much from loving so deeply. Just like Valerie, Evey had been so close to him yet just out of his reach. She knew his soul, ever since they'd met, Evey had always had an odd hold on him. Had she ever asked for anything, he had always tried to deliver. It had been his honor to aid her, it pleasured him.

She could've asked for the stars or the sea, and he would've tried.

V was so used to hate, fury, passion, all the things that had created the monster that breathed fire into his chest. 

Evey was the opposite of him.

She was good and kind, fearless and stronger than she’d ever thought.

He loved her for it.

It was a blessing and a curse, one he carried heavily. Watching her from a distance was his own personal torture, he wished every moment to reveal himself to her and to feel her embrace again. In an ideal world, they would be able to reunite as friends, talking about things they had once talked about happily like Shakespeare, cooking, and music. 

But that world would never exist. Things would never be simple between them and he loathed that. He loathed the mission he had dedicated himself to and for the briefest of moments he would wish that he had abandoned the fight, and went away with her as she had so desperately pleaded for them to do. But her request was only desirable on the surface. His place in her wish was unrealistic, he couldn't adapt to the life she would want. He couldn't adapt to _her,_ to her emotions.

He had been placed in such a torturous situation, and one might believe he was equipped to handle such decisions. V was a skilled assassin, he knew how to make bombs and quote an immeasurable amount of pre-modern quotations. Yet he had never come to understand the social culture of others, and every time he thought he'd come to understand Evey she had simply mystified him even more. It was only in the moment that he realized just how human he still was.

Sighing, he turned away from the Wurlitzer and descended towards a particular room.

His own room.

He wondered if Evey tried to go in there, he assumed she would have.

Not that he had much to hide anymore, and there was nothing to stop her.

Pulling the sturdy door towards him, he entered the dimly lit room. Even in his absence, Evey had kept the lights on down here just as he always had. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the small room, noting that still - nothing had changed. She had left his room untouched. 

Perhaps out of respect, or some desire to keep his memory alive alongside the rest of the Gallery.

His eyes caught sight of a mask at the vanity, his own Fawkes mask. One of the few spares he kept.

Removed from its blank puppet head, the mask lay on the topside flat of the vanity. The devilish grin he knew so well stared up at him, and he swore the mask welcomed his touch. Hovering over it, he took the porcelain mask into his hands, rubbing his leather fingers over the blushed cheeks. She had removed it from its stand, and a part of him wondered if she had ever wore it. 

To see what it was like.

He smiled beneath his own mask, picturing his Evey displaying such curiosity within the confines of his bedroom, doing something as intimate as interacting with the only face she ever saw on him.

\----------------------------------------------------

Pacing outside of Evey’s bedroom door, Liam gripped at his chin in thought and frustration. 

“I don’t understand how this could have happened.” He grumbled, obviously upset.

“Mr. Carter, she is going to be _fine_.” Agent Finch responded rather flatly, not a fan of Liam’s pacing. The other snapped his head in Finch’s direction, pausing in his step as he shook his head.

“No, she isn’t fine! If she were fine she wouldn’t have just been discharged from the hospital after a near assassination attempt.” He retorted angrily. 

Finch gave him a distasteful look, displeased by the other’s tone and implication. 

“I would never let any harm come to her,” At this, Liam laughed darkly and shook a finger at the agent.

“Oh, that’s bloody rich coming from you…”

  
  
Finch crossed his arms, nearing the man. “She has adequate security, you don’t know--” Liam rounded on him, both now in each other’s faces. The temperature in the room dropping.

“Let me make myself clear, Inspector...I know enough. I saw you chase after some guy in a Guy Fawkes mask making away with her. If you hadn’t noticed, if _I_ hadn’t noticed, she might be dead by now. Whatever rebellion is rising is clearly targeting her, so no - I don’t think her security is _adequate!_ ”  
  
Shoving Liam against the wall, Finch gripped at his shirt, his face blanching as he blinked away the worry. 

“Don’t forget you’re speaking to an officer of the state!” He warned, trying to mask his shock at Liam’s revelation. Liam had _seen_ V, he had seen him with Evey. Although no darker meaning seemed to show in his eyes, Finch was worried that Liam might have discovered something dangerous. If even the slightest suspicion rose that V was alive and Liam spread that rumor? It could mean chaos.

Liam simply stared at him, lip curled in silent anger as he glared daggers. The suspense that hung in the air was tangible and after a few more moments of emphasis, Finch released the other and stepped away.

  
  
Smoothing his shirt down, Liam remained silent while he snared, eventually dragging his gaze away from the agent. 

The two turned their attention towards Evey’s door, as if suddenly realizing that they had been waiting here for her to appear. She had wanted a bit of privacy to change and situate herself before allowing them inside. But it had been a _while_ and still no word or sound from inside the flat. 

As if reading the situation clearly, or out of anxiety, both exchanged a knowing glance before Finch moved to crack the door after knocking lightly.

“Evey? Are you alright in there?” Finch asked, noting the casual brightness of the room, lit by artificial lighting. Silence met them and a light press on Finch’s back from Liam encouraged him forward, the door swinging open with purpose as they moved in to inspect the area. There was no noise or movement, and it became immediately clear that there was no Evey either. 

“Dammit.” Finch groaned, his hands hanging at his side as Liam moved about the flat as if he were going to find her hiding in some corner.

Rounding again, Liam gripped at his head and exhaled from stress. 

“You don’t think she was -”

  
  
“Taken? No, we would’ve heard something, and there are cameras all around this complex anyways.” He replied, sighing. “She left, and I think I know where she snuck off to.”

“What - you don’t mean the gallery, do you?” He sighed, shaking his head. Finch shrugged innocently, giving Liam little to no response really. The idea of Evey sneaking out to get away right after the ordeal at the gala was insane to Finch. But somehow, it wasn’t surprising. Finch knew how to get to the Shadow Gallery, he’d learned after having been shown by Evey. He was probably the only one besides Evey and V to know its location. 

He paused, his eyes scanning her flat as he considered following her there. What worried him wasn’t the fact that she was out and alone, it was the fact that she might get there and _not_ be alone. If V happened to be present at the Gallery, what then? He had to trust that V would keep his word.

  
  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Finch turned on his heel to head towards the door slowly. 

“You’re leaving? Are you going to go find her?” Liam asked, catching up to him quickly. Sometimes it was amusing just how much Mr. Carter cared about Evey’s wellbeing, Finch wasn’t really a fan of the other, there had always been something off about him...But Evey seemed to like him. But even Finch knew that Evey found Liam a bit suffocating at times. The lad meant well and that was all that really mattered.

“No, there’s nothing more to do. If she went there, she went for a reason.” He responded, exiting the flat into the hall. Seeming confused, Liam shook his head.

“But what if she’s in trouble?” He asked hollowly.

  
  
“She isn’t.” 

  
“But -”

  
  
“Mr. Carter, I am extremely tired and would appreciate it if you simply trusted me for once.” Liam never trusted Finch for whatever reason, it was irritable at best considering Finch had _no_ ill will towards Evey. That much had always been obvious to the public since the Fifth a year ago. They were friends, confidants, they trusted each other, why couldn't Liam see that?

Silent for a moment, Liam nodded and stood in the open doorway. 

“I’ll...wait for her then, I’ll make sure she contacts you to let you know she’s alright when she returns.” He mused softly, seeming to have calmed down. Finch nodded gratefully, turning and making his way back down the hall.

\------------------------

The entrance to the Gallery shut behind her, the heavy noise sounding throughout the dome. She blinked, exhaling in relief as she walked slowly. Evey was about five seconds away from collapsing into exhaustion, but if she was going to do that it was going to be down here.

She’d broken away from her flat as soon as she’d gotten the chance to be away from prying eyes. Liam had been worried sick ever since they’d left the hospital. She had awoken to Finch at her side, masking his concern as he had leaned forward and asked if she was alright. The two had spoken, Finch explaining to her what had happened.

Of course, her stress levels had practically leaped upwards.

She had rarely come so close to death, but the gala was another to add to the list. Whoever was trying to target her had nearly succeeded, which was obviously very frightening. Finch had assured her that he and his men would be on the case like hounds. Although it had eased her worries, it had not eased her nerves. Even on the way back to her flat, Evey felt like her nerves were on fire.

She couldn’t recall the exact details of what had happened, all she knew was that the Celebration of the 5th had obviously been canceled and now she was going to have to come to terms with more security in her daily life. 

In the stress of it all, finding solitude within the Shadow Gallery had felt like the best idea, especially given the time frame.

The Gallery was the one place she knew she’d be safe, but it was also where all her grief and insecurities laid out on display for her eyes only. All the memories down here hurt yet comforted her. She sighed, walking through the domes with her sweats on. By now, Finch and Liam had probably discovered her absence, and with her luck, the Inspector would probably track her down here and confront her about being reckless or whatever.

But she didn’t care, what did it matter anyway? 

Coming to face the Wurlitzer, Evey trailed her fingers over the keys before pressing one down. The sweet voice of Julie London flowed through the Gallery and Evey shut her eyes, letting the noise vibrate through her nerves, calming her.

This was the first and last song that she’d heard while _he_ was still here. It would forever have a place in her heart. Turning slowly, she rested against the Wurlitzer as she watched the center carpet of the room. 

It wasn’t hard to recall her memories, to imagine her and V standing where they had once stood together, dancing to the same song. A smile crept onto her face as she recalled just how nervous V had been.

_“V, what are you doing?” Evey snickered, raising a brow as she stepped after him. He had gone to the edge of the room, fiddling his hands behind the tied curtain as if searching for something._

_“Oh but Evey, what is dancing worth without the proper atmosphere? We must respect the art of it.” He replied softly, moving hurriedly as if these moments were fleeting by the second._

_Crossing her arms to hold herself, Evey smirked as she watched the room dim, only to realize that specs of light danced across the walls. Her lips parted in awe as she turned on her heel, brown eyes following the little sparkles as they moved across the stone. Before she knew it, V had returned to her side, the pair of them silently watching the beauty of the dome around them._

_“It’s beautiful.” She looked up at him, his masked face dragging itself away from the view to look down at her. It was always nice to imagine him smiling underneath that mask at her, somehow she could always tell when it was true._

_“It pales in comparison to_ **_you_ ** _, my dear.” He mused deeply, turning his body to face her as he offered her his hand. Her eyes sparkled, noting him with a different sort of appreciation as the two came together naturally to begin their little dance._

The image faded before her eyes and Evey felt her heart sink. If she had known those would be some of her last moments with V, she would’ve treated them differently. It hurt to know that no matter what she had said to him, or how she had treated him, he would be lost to her anyways. 

His mission had always come first, and she’d been forced to respect that.

What would he say now? If he knew what had happened if he knew the state of the world and the threat to her life...Would he care? Her lips tightened, of course he would care.

She chuckled to herself at the thought that if he were still here, it was likely he would’ve stopped at nothing to eliminate the enemy. He was particularly rueful when it came to her safety, she would never forget how frightening he had become in that alleyway when he had doomed those who had tried to attack her. 

Stepping away from the jukebox, Evey walked around the corners, observing each book she had memorized in place. She knew where just about everything was now, it was nice, to say the least. V would’ve been impressed.

The very idea of sleeping in her old bed, here in the Gallery, was so desperately appealing to Evey. Spending the night here would either soothe her conscience or bring her more despair. It was like a gamble, and unfortunately, one she wasn’t willing to play tonight. Sighing, she stared sorrowfully around the Gallery, almost trying to think of more excuses to stay. The warm lighting and the piles of books she had never read called to her. 

But it was time to go, she had surely worried Finch and Liam sick by now.

\----------------------------

Hiding in the shadows of the Shadow Gallery was not easy, especially when there were barely any shadows to be had. It was the one time he had been in the Gallery and _not_ desired Evey’s presence. 

He’d had just enough warning to stow himself away in his quarters when she had arrived, much to his surprise.

Practically cursing at himself, he was again disappointed in Finch’s apparent _adequacy_ to keep Evey safely confined to her flat. But really, was it surprising? It just proved yet again, that Evey needed someone to keep an eye on her much more closely. Someone like him.

But even through the crack in the door, he could tell she was not as hurt as he previously thought. If she was able to come down here on her own, assuming she was alone, then she couldn’t have been _that_ badly injured. Though, from a closer look he could tell that the blow to her head had left a significant bump.

Much like the time before when she’d been knocked unconscious by the butt of a gun at Jordan Tower.

He refrained from groaning, feeling pathetic at the prospect of hiding behind a door in his own home. It was a necessity at the moment, because he couldn’t possibly reveal himself to Evey now...Not when he had come so close before. If he could restrain himself then, then he had to now as well.

Watching her disappear around the corner, he held his breath, thinking to himself until he heard the Wurlitzer spring to life. 

_Cry me a River._

V’s chest tightened, and he turned away from the cracked door as the music echoed in the Gallery. She was mourning, escaping...Why else had she come down here? After all that had happened, she had chosen to come _here._

Why was his Evey still attached to the idea of him? Even a year later?  
  
At the gala, despite his mask, she had looked at him with such unease...Of course, she hadn’t known it was him and hopefully she never would...But it had been a wrench in his gut at the time. Did Guy Fawkes no longer fill her with joy? Now that the man she’d always known to bore his face was gone?  
  
V had always known Evey had mourned him, but only to a certain extent. He had loved her, and he had vocalized that to her in his last moments...It was such a weakness on his part. He didn’t regret his proclamation but he did recognize how it had appeared. She hadn’t returned his affections, not that he had expected her to. But a part of him had wanted her to, to know that he was loved by her before he died. 

Except, he hadn’t died.

He had always been delighted by her company, she was so inquisitive and curious...He had delighted in sharing his possessions with her, his passions. The pair had learned so much from each other, and she had grown into a woman he never thought he’d see again. She had adopted Valerie’s spirit, and his strength. She was a collection of all the things he loved and all the things he had wanted her to recognize in herself.

Watching her from afar, in his own home, hurt more than any other time he’d been observing her. She was clearly reminiscing, when she should be at home resting. The unnerving thought that she might choose to sleep here suddenly dawned upon him and he straightened up, glancing back towards the door. Would she?  
  
He didn’t know if the thought warmed him or unnerved him more.

Before he could even really collect his thoughts, he heard the Wurlitzer go silent followed with a deafening noise that only confirmed her exit back into the tunnels.

The lights still glistened in the Gallery, and V reentered the domes of the Gallery feeling hollow as the emptiness swarmed him again.

\---------------------

Opening the door with stealth, Evey expected to find both Liam and Eric waiting inside her flat with overwhelming concern. She felt like she was sneaking back into her home past curfew again, trying not to get caught by her parents. Except it wasn't her parents and there was no curfew. 

She had been half right.

Upon sliding in past the door, she looked up to see Liam making his way towards her hurriedly. 

“Evey…” He sounded relieved and disappointed, extending his arms forward to capture her in an embrace. She buried her face into his chest, the trench coat fabric he wore was thick and warm against her skin. Lifting her face, she stared up at him apologetically. She hadn't meant to worry him, truly.

“I’m sorry to have made you wait here for me,” She whispered, leaning back as he stared down at her. Lifting his hand, Liam brushed a lock of hair from his face and smiled warmly at her.

“I had to make sure you were alright, where did you go?” He asked, and she ignored the flash of indignation in his eyes. Shrugging, she released herself from his grip and brushed past him further into her room. The look he gave her told her everything she needed to know. He asked the question simply only to make her say what he knew already. He had never liked the Shadow Gallery, had always thought it only prolonged her grief for V and everything else. At first she had listened to him, but eventually she had realized that she needed to handle her grief however she _felt_ she needed to. This conversation felt like kicking a dead horse.

_Here we go again..._

“The Shadow Gallery, I just needed some...time to think.” She replied, removing the emotion from her voice - as if her leaving just after being attacked at a government affair wasn’t a big deal. Removing her coat, she laid it down on the bed before moving towards her closet. Before she could cover more ground, Liam was gripping her arm softly and spinning her around to face him.

“Evey, you _know_ that was dangerous,” Looking away from her he hesitated with his words before scoffing, throwing an arm in the air worriedly. “Honestly, sometimes I don’t know if you even _think_ about what you’re doing.” 

Evey’s lips flattened into a line and she gave him a ‘ _Liam...c’mon.’_ look before pulling her arm from him and turning back towards her closet. 

“It’s perfectly safe down there, and look, I’m fine so there really isn’t any reason to get worked up about it.” 

She heard a sigh behind her and as she grabbed an old t-shirt from her closet she turned to face him again.

“I just don’t want to lose you...Today was...terrifying, you know I would do anything for you, right?” He stepped towards her. Swallowing thickly, she tilted her head and smiled softly. Guilt stabbed at her and Evey had to admit that maybe he was right...She had been reckless and selfish.

“I know…”

"So I would think you'd do anything for _me..._ " He prompted, his expression captivating as she felt her chest tighten. She couldn't find the words to respond, feeling uneasy at the situation he had suddenly put her in. Taking her silence as a sign, he changed the subject.

  
  
“The man that took you, do you know who he was?” He asked suddenly, his expression flattening like he hadn't just been fawning over her a moment ago.

She narrowed her own brown eyes, stiffening.

“You - what? What man?” She asked, genuinely confused and taken aback by the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

“You don’t remember? Some bastard wearing a Guy Fawkes mask was making off with you after he hit you with his pistol...I came after you and stopped him but...I was worried.” He told her, sitting down on the edge of her bed. 

Licking her lips, she paused in thought and looked to the ground in consideration.

“I didn’t know that...But I definitely didn't know him.” She whispered, almost inaudibly. It was painful to realize that awful people didn't care at all whether they used _his_ face or not. V wasn’t around anymore, she couldn’t trust that face especially after last night.

Liam nodded subconsciously, clearly in thought as the silence hung between them. Breaking the silence, he reached an arm out to her lovingly.  
  


“Come to bed, you need to rest.”

  
  
Absentmindedly, she nodded and stepped towards the side of the bed to get changed. So many emotions were trying to run through her that her body suddenly felt like it was moving to autopilot.

_Rest, she needed rest._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, after Liam had left, Evey had just begun to settle down again before a knock on her door sounded. She opened it to find Finch just outside in the hallway, and she looked at him in relief.

“Oh, it’s you. Come on in.” She released the door, leaving it to his own jurisdiction as she walked back into her flat. She had just been preparing an early lunch.

“How are you feeling?” Finch called after her, shutting the door behind him as he looked around.

Her back to him, she picked up the butter knife off the counter to continue working on her sandwich. It was a warm relief that Finch had come back to see her, she was always grateful for his concern and friendship. He was a friend that she couldn’t replace, both had gone through so much with the destruction of Norsefire and they had stuck together through all of the chaos. 

“Pretty alright, could be worse.” She had grown weary of people hounding over her safety, she had found she could take care of herself. But after the events of the gala, she felt a bit shaken...Not that she would admit it.

“You went to the Gallery last night.” It was spoken more as a statement than a question. Finch knew of her dislike towards overstated concern. If she claimed to be alright then he would leave her to it. He knew she had a tendency to be reckless…But she couldn’t be stopped either. She was much more alike to V than she realized.

He was the one person that she didn’t feel nervous to talk about the Shadow Gallery with. He was never too overbearing or curious, he was kind and trustworthy.

“I did, I needed time to think…” She sighed, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder. 

“That was all?” He asked, implying that she had done more than simply think. Or was there something else?

“The fifth was hard, there’s obviously no denying that.” Evey looked up, staring at the cabinets, she couldn’t stand to look at him. To see the pity on his face. “I needed to... _mourn_ I suppose.”

Her confession was filled with shielded grief.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

  
  
She looked down at her sandwich, still holding the butterknife flat against the counter. There was a long silence between them as she felt her head get tense from frustration. Of course she missed him, especially lately. He would always hold a special place in her heart and it frustrated her to no end that it could never be replaced. When her parents had been taken, she had been able to cover up that hole with ignorance and avoidance. When the state of the country had grown worse, and curfew had begun, she had simply lied to herself that it was simply the way of things.

But V had taught her differently. Now she was forced to face her emotions head on, and while it usually made her stronger...It was still painful. Her entire body grew unbearably tense with frustration and sadness when she remembered everything surrounding V. 

“You know I do...I think I always will. I didn’t realize until yesterday just how badly I missed him though.” Evey knew that somehow, V would’ve swooped in to save the day during that gala. He always found a way to pull off the impossible. Even in the beginning, when he had terrified her in destroying the Old Bailey...There had been an attraction there. Even without seeing his face, she had been attracted to his attitude, that wild spit of fire in him. Perhaps she had been jealousy, she saw in him what she wanted to see in herself, although she hadn't realized it at the time.

“Which is why I think we need to talk Evey…” He sighed and she shook her head immediately, caught in her thoughts.

“No, I don’t think we -”

She didn't _want_ to talk about her feelings right now.

  
  
“It’s about V, there’s been a...development.” He spoke slowly, as if unsure to continue with each word that came out. He sounded like he wanted to stop himself before things spiraled. It only put her more on edge.

Evey froze, gripping the butterknife in her hand tightly as she felt her grief grip her body until it hurt. Her skin felt tight and her breath stopped in her throat. She was sure that Finch was going to tell her that his body had been recovered, that she was being permitted to see him, that she would finally have to say goodbye-

“He’s alive, Evey.” 

She tensed, incredibly still for a few moments before practically rounding on him with tears glistening in her eyes. Almost intimidated by her obvious pain and anger, he flinched as she held the butterknife at him in a silent threat. Of course, he knew she meant nothing from it, it was a way to get defensive about her emotions, but it unnerved him all the same.

Her lips formed into a hard line as she spoke, her denial tangible.

“No. He isn’t.” Her words a powerful whisper, a warning. She looked like she was close to breaking at the mere suggestion of his continued existance.

“Evey,” He stepped towards her, palms up in a show of carefulness. “You deserve to know.”

Shaking her head again, the tears finally spilled over and she avoided his gaze. Her mind wouldn't work, all she could replay in her mind was the sight of him on that train.

“He isn’t.”

  
“He _is._ ”

  
  
“And you know this how?” She hissed immediately, looking up at him like she had caught him in some lie. If his words were some kind of sick joke then she would _not have it._

Sighing, Finch let his arms hang at his sides in defeat.

“I’ve spoken with him.”

  
  
Evey looked down at the ground, considering the weight of what he had revealed to her. Falling to her knees she released a sob, covering her face with her hands as she shook her head in denial. It felt like too much suddenly. It had happened too fast. Her mind couldn't process what she was feeling or thinking. Finch had _spoken_ with him? But that was impossible, she had sent V off on that train. Parliament had gone up in flames and taken his physical body with it. She had held him in her arms as he had died…

“ _I don’t understand…_ ” Her words came out hard to understand, muffled and choked.

She felt a hand on her back and knew Finch had crouched beside her to comfort her. 

“I know...I don’t understand it either...But it _is_ him.”

  
  
Her gaze met his and he was taken aback by how _betrayed_ she suddenly looked. The reality of everything had suddenly caught up to her and she found herself with a billion questions and no answers.

“Why hasn’t he come to me? Why would he come to you?” She asked hopelessly, none of it making any sense.

“I -” He hesitated. “He didn’t wish to reveal himself to you...It wasn’t my place.” He admitted softly.

_What?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter does end on a weird note but it was already super long so oops. 
> 
> feel free to comment your thoughts or any questions!!


	9. Face to Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> da reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello loves ! I actually wrote this chapter over a week ago but I've been rewriting and editing it ever since. This chapter is hella important and kinda what everyone's been waiting for so I wanted to get it as good as I could. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> As always, I own none of the characters here.

“What does that even mean? _ I don’t understand! _ ” Evey cried back to him, rising to stand with him as she blinked away tears. Stepping away from his close proximity, she acknowledged that she had no desire to be touched now. Recoiling like a serpent, she spent the better half of a few seconds getting farther from him.

She needed space.

“I’m not entirely sure,”   
  
“You’re not  _ sure _ ?” 

“We only spoke twice, Evey.”   
  
Her lips parted, limbs stiffening as she bristled at him in shock. 

“You spoke to him more than once and didn’t tell me?” 

Her mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend the where and the how, it was all rolling around in her mind. The very idea that V was indeed alive was still struggling to click in her head. Evey’s mind felt more jumbled than ever, the only other time she could compare this feeling to was when she had been released from her false imprisonment. Her sense of shock and confusion had shaken her to the core, her bones barely stable enough to keep her standing. Evey felt inclined to demand Finch to leave, to ignore the whole thing, it was too much to process. But she was stronger than that, wasn’t she?

The confusion, the anger, the betrayal.

All of those emotions were so familiar to her yet they boiled in her stomach. This  _ hurt.  _ She had never imagined that after everything...that she could still feel so betrayed by V.

A year ago she had watched that train carry his body away, believing that they had parted with no more lies, no more deception. V had promised her truth, only to show her again that he was not the man she thought he was.

Shaking her head, she stared along the floor - as if she’d find some sort of comfort there - her hand came to her throbbing forehead. The strain and the frustration were overwhelming and doing no favors for the massive bump on her head. It was the first time she realized that perhaps she should be resting and allowing her body and mind time to process everything.

“Evey, you need to calm down-”

Her hesitation evaporated.    
  
“No! No, I don’t need to  _ calm down _ . And you know why?!” Her lip curled as she stormed towards him, poking a finger at his chest.

“Because you’re all  _ liars!  _ Because I thought he was  **_dead_ ** for the past year! Because... -” The choking in her throat stopped her and she found herself without any more words as her throat swelled. Lips closing, she was simply fighting to breathe and it felt like deja vu for all the wrong reasons. 

Her hands came to her eyes and she rubbed, only adding to the swelling and redness. Finch brought her into a protective embrace and she returned it, finally surrendering herself to the comfort of a familiar friend. Her anger had simmered momentarily with Finch at least, he wasn’t truly to blame.

V though, he was an entirely different entity with his own sins and he would be held accountable. She’d make sure of it.

She didn’t wait for her tears to stop, Evey only leaned into the embrace long enough to pull herself together before tearing away from Finch and heading towards her room to grab a coat. Her footsteps against the carpet moved with purpose.

“Evey. Where are you going?” He made no move to follow her.   
  
She returned around the corner, the coat raised to slip her arms through, moving without delay towards the door.

“Do I really need to answer that?”    
  
Finch didn’t reply, because he didn’t need to. They both knew where she was going, and who she hoped to find. He only stood there and watched, his only thoughts running through the possible outcomes.

_ Whatever Lord exists, I hope they protect that man from this woman’s wrath or so help me… _

“Don’t wait up.” She huffed coldly before disappearing out the door. Evey would not entertain the idea of counsel with Finch at this time. 

\----------------------------------------

He was right where she hoped he would be.

To her surprise, he seemed just as unprepared to see her as she did him.

The both of them now several feet apart at a standstill, her eyes raking over him just as she knew his eyes scanned her behind that mask.

She supposed she had no right to be angry or surprised to find him down here. But then again, it wasn’t his home anymore - was it? He had left it to her. With stiffened posture, he stood completely frozen and she wondered what thoughts were racing through his head. 

It felt like the entirety of London was holding its breath, waiting for one of them to speak.

There was a brief moment of awe between them, of old friends discovering each other again…

“Evey..”

Until the moment ended and all Evey could feel was another rush of explosive anger.

A few quick strides took her straight to him and then her fists were batting at him, shoving him back into the dome of the Shadow Gallery. Their steps matched each other’s, she shoved, he moved, she followed. Even though he was protected behind that mask, she knew he was taken aback by her immediate aggression. Evey left him little room to breathe, every fiber of her being demanding that he understand her pain.

She threw punches and slaps, even shoving one palm at his porcelain mask as he tried to block her. Of course, Evey knew she could do no real damage, he was an angel of death. Those around him only performed as he allowed them to. 

It still felt good to know that only  _ she _ possessed the power to attack him this way. He would’ve never allowed it from somebody else.

_ “You awful son of a - “ _   
  
Another punch to the gut, met by a subtle grunt from him.

_ “I can’t believe - !”  _   
  
He blocked her attack, subtly using her own movements against her as he allowed her to continue her charade. It only enraged her further to realize that V was playing with her, he wouldn’t even allow her the satisfaction of a proper beating.

_ “Why couldn’t you have  _ **_just_ ** _ \- “ _   
  
One under handed hit to his jaw, the part of his jaw that was unprotected by the mask and he seemed to have run out of patience for her tantrum. Despite this, he was as gentle as ever when collecting her wrists into his hands, gripping them so tightly that she was suddenly afraid of his reaction. His gloved fingers enclosed around her skin like shackles.

She jerked once before he tightened his grip, tilting the mask to look down at her. Evey stiffened, waiting impatiently for him to say something.

“Evey.” He whispered, his voice abnormally calm, almost...disappointed?   
  
Halting her efforts, Evey suddenly realized that she already had tears running down her cheeks again. Her skin felt hot, her head still throbbing inside and out while she stared wide-eyed at him. She must look an absolute mess, a stunning image for their untimely reunion.

Shaking her head at him, she was at a loss for words as she took him in. The mask was still so pristine, without flaw and glossy from its porcelain surface. He looked just as she recalled from memory, and for a moment she wondered if this was some cruel dream. If she was being tempted from all her sorrows over the past few days. To see him standing here, his hands on her...It was  _ real _ .

Shakily sucking in a breath, her throat felt tight and she managed to finally choke out the question that had plagued her mind on the entire journey down here.

“ _ Why _ , V?”

Sensing the relent in her muscles, he released her wrists, taking a step back to put just a bit more distance between them.

Inwardly, he was reeling in annoyed confusion, his emotions feeling like a rope around his neck...He had to tread carefully. It didn’t take long for his confusion to dissipate at how she had happened to find him.

It was clear she had come down here already  _ aware _ of his prolonged existence, and it wasn’t hard to determine who or what might have led her to this revelation. V wasn’t as angry as he was disappointed or concerned, it was a delicate situation.

He was delighted to see her, to see the recognition in her brown eyes as they stood just a few feet from each other. Before her anger had come, he knew he had seen her admiration and relief. His Evey  _ was  _ pleased to see him, but the sentiment was fleeting. 

A year ago, seeing her might have frustrated him. Once she had left him, he had tried devoting all his energy back to his plan, the only plan that mattered. Evey had been withdrawn to the back of his mind, addressed as a simple liability again for the sake of his sanity. But before his timely demise, he had been left with no choice but to accept that those suppressions had been a lie. He had been weak to love her, and perhaps it still made him weak. But he was at the mercy of the siren she played, he had almost caved at her proposal to leave it all behind, England be damned. 

However, things were different now and Evey was someone who unknowingly pulled at his strings in ways he couldn’t understand. He was driven by purpose, it was what gave him life - and now that purpose revolved around Evey’s safety.

This discovery of hers could not be reversed, he could not erase this knowledge from her mind. In any other situation with any other person, he might have resorted to deadlier methods of solution, but that would not do.

What wounded him was knowing that she clearly couldn’t understand why he had hidden himself away.

Sighing deeply, he looked down, unwilling to face her when she looked so pained. It was something he never enjoyed seeing with her especially considering that the fault was his own,  _ again _ .

“V!” Her demanding call broke him from his thoughts..

“It’s not... _ easy _ explaining this.” He hissed under his breath.

Her lip curled, hard lines forming on her forehead and she threw her fists down.

“I don’t care, I want to hear it. I want you to explain to me why you let me - let  _ everyone  _ believe you were dead for an entire year!” She spat back desperately, her sympathy for him nonexisting.

_ Why  _ **_me_ ** _...didn’t you trust me? _ _   
_ _   
_ He finally looked up at her, figuring he at least owed her the explanation she craved. He owed her quite a lot, and for the first time in a while he was at a loss for words. His mind was fluttering with possible ways to explain, to excuse his actions. He felt shameful, not that he would admit it out loud. V had yet again hurt Evey in an effort to protect her.

Evey could sense his shame, but right now she didn’t care. Let him feel ashamed.

“‘ _ They whose guilt within their -’”  _

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ try to throw some 16th century Shakespeare quote at me!” Evey snapped. “You can’t justify yourself this time, can you?”   
  
He remained silent.

Lips gaped in confusion and shock, Evey shook her head in denial again, at a loss for words herself. They came to her moments later.

“I can’t believe you. Last I saw you, you promised me no more lies. I don’t know why I ever trusted you! You lied to so many people, V. I watched Parliament go up in flames and I spent the last year believing that I had sent you into that explosion. You hid away while I helped rebuild this country, while I became the new target of Norsefire, while the people lost their main symbol of rebellion!” Evey sounded exasperated.

His lack of physical reaction was what prompted her further, noting his ever-perfect posture. He stood there, taking her words like they were simple chatter. Did he not owe her the decency of pretending to feel more guilty?

“You’re a coward, and you were wrong.” She hissed. 

To her surprise, that was when he seemed to stiffen and rise, his shoulders arching back as he perfected his composure. It was unsettling, almost intimidating.

“No, I wasn’t wrong. I made the best decision I could given the circumstances.” He replied evenly, his voice low and grovely. 

“What circumstances? That it was easier to let the country believe you were dead?”   
  
“That was part of it, yes. Everything I stood for before the fifth died alongside that train, my mission, my purpose.” His hands clasped together in front of him calmly.

_ What about me? _ _   
_ _   
_ Struggling, Evey balled her hands into fists.

“The people still needed you! You shouldn’t have just left them!”   
  
“From what I have seen, this country has far exceeded my expectations with their own strength and will. I provided the push and they continued the shove, with you at the head of them.”    
  
Her expression dropped and she felt her chest tighten as she suddenly looked offended.

How could he seem and sound so uncaring? His voice carried its normal neutrality, just as it had when he had been explaining the purpose of her false imprisonment. He always believed he was right, the bastard.

“With  _ me  _ at the head? I was alone V, I’m not like you, I can’t lead a revolution like you! If anything, your death just put a bright red target on my back!”    
  
“You’re wrong, you’re so like me Evey, you just refuse to see it.”    
  
“I am  _ not  _ like you, I would never trick those I cared about, especially when I knew they were grieving and mourning me.” She retorted sharply. 

“That’s how you see it? As a trick?” He contemplated, curiosity entering his voice as he cocked his head at her. 

“That’s exactly what it is!” She scoffed. “You tricked me, you  _ left me. _ ”   
  
_ You said you loved me… _

She wouldn’t dare bring that up. There was no point, it was painful enough as was. His confession would remain in the past where it belonged.

Shaking his head, V stepped towards her which only prompted her to step back. This surprised him but he made no further movements. 

“I did what was best for you. Your life was meant to continue, to thrive above ground. My life  _ was _ supposed to end on the fifth, that was how it was always meant to be. I chose to remain dead to the world for the good of the country, to allow that spark within the people to grow. The destruction of Parliament isn’t what destroyed Norsefire, you  _ know _ that...It was the people that did that.” He reminded her.

“And how was that best for me?” She whispered weakly.

Stepping towards her, she finally allowed him to come back within close proximity of her. She had to tilt her head back to look at him, her eyelashes fluttered open weakly and the two regarded each other. There was an unspoken softness between them, and she let herself drown in it, the temptation of giving herself this one moment of connection too desirable.

He lifted a hand, cradling her cheek with black leather and she fell into it, relishing in the feeling of another temporary comfort.

“It’s as I said, you were meant to thrive above ground. That isn’t possible with me, I am not a creature that belongs up there, among the people. I served my purpose, it is unwise to burden people further.” He sighed, rubbing a gloved thumb along the skin of her cheek. 

Shaking her head, she lifted a hand to hold the back of his, releasing a sigh of sadness.

“You’re not a burden,”   
  
_ Not to me,  _ **_never_ ** _ to me. _

“You deserve happiness too…”   
  
He was silent, unmoving as he stared at her and Evey again wished she could understand what he was feeling underneath that mask. Despite her connection with him, sometimes it was impossible to read him. 

“No...maybe once, long ago.” He paused, retracting his hand and stepping away from her.

This conversation suddenly felt familiar, throwing her back to the tube tunnels where she had tried to convince him that another life was possible for him.

Evey’s gaze hardened as he moved away from her, and her heart throbbed. Why couldn’t he just stay? Why couldn’t they  _ talk openly  _ about things? He always felt the need to conceal and withdraw. Did she not know him better than anyone else alive? 

“It wasn’t your choice.” She called to him suddenly.

He looked to her, tilting his head in consideration.

“What?”   
  
“What was best for me. That wasn’t your choice to make.” She said coldly, standing her ground.

It was ironic that he had always guided her choices, ever since he rescued her...Evey’s life had revolved around him and his desires. Even her choice to leave him, it had been fueled by decisions he made for her. 

Sighing through his nose, he replied, “What’s best for you is your safety, I have adopted the notion to act upon your protection.” 

“My safety? How do you justify that?”   
  
“The only reason I surrendered my identity to the Chief Inspector was in favor of your safety, now that you’re in more immediate danger as of late, it is for the best that I keep a closer eye on you.” He explained, the confidence in his stance almost infuriating.

It was another instance where she could tell he was so  _ adamant _ that he was right, the way he spoke to her - he had the gall to feel like he was teaching her something. Before the fifth, she would’ve allowed it — she had trusted him more then. The idea of having V as some sort of bodyguard was weirdly reassuring, as much as she hated to admit it. But the rational side of her emotions felt rageful at the idea of V following her from the shadows.

“My safety isn’t your concern - wait, you’ve been watching me?” She asked, blinking.

“You sound surprised.”   
  
“Surprised? V, that’s practically stalking and you could’ve easily been discovered! I didn’t ask for your help!” She scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. Not that she knew he had been alive anyways.

“Several rebel cells have begun to form a considerable threat against the new government and most of all, you. Keeping an eye on you was the best I could do from afar...I tried to convince the Chief Inspector that my supervision was best - given the situation...He disagreed.”    
  
“Did either of you stop to consider that maybe I should’ve been made aware of all this? That I should have a say?” She asked, upset. This was not the time for petty squabbles over who protected her or if she even needed protection but she wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction of drawing her attention elsewhere.

Rebel cells forming an uprising? The events of the gala suggested that, but to hear it confirmed by V was something else. It was frightening and in her brief moment of fear she almost convinced herself to agree with V’s sentiment. 

If any form of protection was stable, it was from V. His skills and his rage were terrifyingly capable.

But the back of her mind screamed at her, reminding her that she was angry and hurt. Trusting V, even with this, was something she couldn’t convince herself to do right now.

“You can  _ still _ make that choice, Evey. The safest place for you is  _ down here _ , away from all that.” He told her, and she felt another sense of deja vu.

V wanted her to stay in the Shadow Gallery with him? Again?

Before, when her safety had been in question, he had brought her down here. Except he had given her no choice and it was for his own safety as well. He had only done what he had in order to preserve his plan and his life.

But there was no plan anymore, there was only her.

Gripping the roots of her hair with both hands, she shook her head and turned from him.

“What? No - I can’t just..” Giving an irritated groan, she paced. “No.” She replied definitively.

“Evey, please.” He stepped towards her and she held a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t.” She warned. “You don’t get to start telling me what I have to do, you don’t have the right to do anything concerning me! You told me my life was above ground - maybe you’re right!” Her cold words hit him like a jab to the ribs and his stance waivered unsteadily. Her brown eyes looked to his mask, and even past the mesh she could feel their eyes meet.

One large step brought him to her, she had just turned to leave when his hand snatched at her elbow, tugging her back around forcefully. She met him, wide-eyed at the urgency in his actions, his obvious irritation only fueled her own.

“If the people that care about you, that look up to you - lose you, your stubbornness will have proved nothing.” He argued insistently. 

_ The people? That was what he cared about? _

Who was she kidding, nothing he could say to her right now would have convinced her to stay down here with him. _   
_ _   
_ “ _ Then they’ll have another martyr _ .” Evey spoke behind clenched teeth, pain rippling through her. If that was all he cared about then so be it. She yanked her arm from his grasp.

“Just stay away from me, I’ll handle everything by myself. I’ve been doing that for the past year anyway.” She hissed, turning on her heel to storm out the way she came. 

Unlike before, when V would have just let her go, she heard him call out her name angrily. She didn’t look back, she didn’t think she could bear it. If she did then the tears would come again.

  
She had gone to the Gallery to find answers, and had left with more questions. Handling V in this state, when she was seething and worked up - it wasn’t going to get her anywhere. When she had reigned in control of her emotions, she would seek him out again. In the meantime she intended to have a very  _ productive  _ conversation with Eric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, Evey isn't staying BUT don't fret, they won't stay away from each other for long ;)
> 
> as always, please feel free to leave a comment if you enjoyed or wanna suggest anything! Comments fr fuel me to continue writing ;u;
> 
> If any of you ever wanna chat or rave over v for vendetta feel free to add my discord @invaderspotty#6650


	10. Old Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back atcha with another chapter! I've noticed that Ao3 formats the text weird in some places? idk what that's about sorry :(
> 
> hope everyone is doing well :) also if anyone happens to be interested -- I have a playlist for Evey/V on spotify : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2qdtXdJs1Knu5Rey8Uv3Hy?si=RijO2NYQS0-7XarT9DP0sQ (some songs i imagine them just dancing to, some are specifically for lyrics, etc)
> 
> As always I do not own Evey Hammond, just Liam. Enjoy!

_ 4 Missed Calls from: Liam Carter. _

Upon arriving back at her apartment, Evey discovered that Finch had left a note - asking her to contact him when she returned. Crumbling the small paper, she left it on the counter and headed to her room feeling utterly exhausted.

Her phone, laying on the bed where she had left it, was soon in her hands as she rapidly checked her notifications. She had left her phone there accidentally, but perhaps that was for the best. There was always the risk that someone was tracking her, especially now.

Just as her brown eyes scanned across her missed calls, the phone suddenly buzzed again in her hands. She almost dropped it with unsteady hands, and sighed in semi-relief as Liam’s name popped up again, calling her.

_ He really needs to understand the concept of space. _

Answering it, she put the phone to her ear immediately.

“Liam?”   
  


“Evey, oh God where have you  _ been _ ? I called you  _ several _ times.” He told her, sounding relieved and angry at the same time. 

“Sorry - I got held up with something.”   
  
That was one way to put it.

She hadn’t had the chance to look at herself in a mirror yet, but she was sure her eyes were still red and puffy. Anyone who laid eyes on her would be able to tell she was still distressed. It was a wonder she had made it inside her apartment without breaking down again from it all.

Still, Evey tried to keep her voice leveled with Liam.

“...Are you alright? You sound a bit off.” 

Apparently it wasn’t level enough.

Swallowing, Evey nodded her head despite the fact that he obviously couldn’t see her.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry for taking so long to respond I left my phone on my bed and I only-”    
  
“Where did you go?”   
  
This had become a pretty normal routine between them. He was always so curious about her whereabouts, at first she had thought nothing of it but now it felt like if she refused to tell him...it would only start problems. It was a cycle she couldn’t seem to break.

Liam had a certain aura that sought to comfort and intimidate her at the same time. She didn’t necessarily feel like she was walking on eggshells around him, but she had come to recognize that he had a naturally manipulative nature. Not that he was able to control her in any real way, Evey wanted to believe she was smarter than that. V hadn’t brutalized her in that cell for her to be a doormat for someone. 

It was a morbid thought, though it was true.

Liam had always claimed that he was only curious. 

“To the shop, I needed to pick some things up.” Her voice shook slightly, despite her strengths she had always been a terrible liar - at least to friends. She wanted to tell him, she wanted someone slightly more impartial to the situation to comfort her. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Liam, but the news of V being alive was extremely fragile and couldn’t be risked that easily. She was beyond her emotional capacity at the moment, and though defending V was far from her mind the decent amount of respect she had for him and his identity would never leave her. 

His voice softened, “Honey, you know you can talk to me right?”    
  
She sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling her chest tighten as her mind replayed what had just happened in the Gallery. A desperate part of her wanted to go back there and relish in the feeling of  _ life  _ being brought back to the Gallery. Before she knew it she was feeling choked up again, pressure building in her head that demanded release in the form of another good cry.

“I know…” She sniffed, a hand coming up to wipe at her eyes again. 

“Do you want me to come over?”   
  
She was silent for a bit, debating her answer for a solid few seconds. Maybe she should reject him, call Finch instead. But that would only lead to more talk about  _ V  _ and honestly she didn’t think she could handle that right now, she needed a breather.

Perhaps an outlet.

Liam wasn’t  _ completely  _ impartial about V, but she knew that he would comfort her no matter what. He didn’t have the ability to stir things up, and he was one of her closest confidants. He had never betrayed her trust, and she didn’t think he ever would.

_ Eric never had either. _

Her impulsive desire to distract herself urged her to finally respond.

“Yeah...please.”    
  
The pair exchanged soft goodbyes as Liam declared that he would be on his way immediately. 

\-----------------------------------

It was hours later when Evey rolled away from him, his arm still underneath her as she pulled the covers closer. The body heat between them had become a bit overwhelming, she needed just a bit of space to cool down. The feeling of skin on skin contact was comforting to her, especially right now. Physical affection was her love language oddly enough, though only in select moments. But right now, perhaps she deserved some good feelings, even if they didn’t help much in the long run.

Sucking in a deep breath, Liam turned towards her on his side, the sheets barely covering his chest. The light was soft and warm in her room, mid-day approaching, and his soft embrace was so inviting.

She’d utilized the outlet that he had offered, oh she’d  _ definitely _ utilized it.

But it had left her feeling weirdly disappointed and somewhat dirty. But it had nothing to do with V being alive, right? Evey had never thought of V in that way, not really. He was a friend, a confidant, someone she had -- no,  _ did  _ love but the idea of him as a  _ lover _ ? It was impractical, it felt like a boundary that neither would dare to cross. There had been times in the Gallery, when things had been simple and she would notice his stare linger for just a bit too long. Or they would discuss some random topic that would turn into teasing - dare she say with flirtatious undertones? He would comfort her from nightmares, read to her, provide her with any distraction whenever she drove herself to boredom down there.    
  
There had even been once that she had discovered a novel with some rather erotic material, she had tormented him about it for  _ days.  _ It was the best laugh she had in the Gallery. At times she would grab ahold of V, or he of her, touches that on their own would be considered natural but between them it was different. At least in her mind she’d always felt...off. Had he ever felt the same way? 

  
Why did she feel so wrong?   
  
It was something she didn’t have the courage to reflect on right now, it was so much easier to ignore those thoughts. Having sex was nothing new with her and Liam, it was a mutual understanding between the pair of them. Not friends with benefits per say but...it was something. It provided the validation and pleasure she desired, and she imagined it did the same for him. His feelings ran deeper for her, though that topic hadn’t been discussed in months...No, there wasn’t much talking when they were in bed.

Why should she feel guilty about it?   
  
Perhaps because it felt like she was betraying  _ both _ of them. 

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on now?” She had effectively evaded the question earlier, thus leading to their rather passionate activities.

Licking her lips cautiously in thought, Evey just turned her head to look at him.

“Honestly, I really don’t want to talk about it. I’ve just been emotional lately.” She replied.

He gave her a long stare, regarding her sympathetically. Within moments he inched closer, half hovering above her as he pressed a kiss to her lips. His body heat radiated against her again as she returned the slow kiss. It was his attempt at brief comfort.

“I know, I can’t imagine how stressful everything has been with the gala and all.” His eyes drifted upwards to the bump on her forehead.   
  
She nodded slowly, her eyes scanning every inch of his face. 

“I’m sorry for being so overbearing lately, I swear it’s just because I’m worried about you.” He confessed softly.

“I know, but I’m fine - I’m a tough girl.” She feigned a smile.

She was so much more than a tough girl. She’d experienced enough heartache and pain to last a lifetime. Not that she’d ever discussed much of that with Liam.

Silence lingered between them, but Evey felt rather content and more at ease. She could’ve laid in bed all day with him, forgetting about V, forgetting about everything. The moment ended as quickly as it began, she was provided no relief.

“You went back to the Shadow Gallery, didn’t you?” He asked, masked with softness but she couldn’t mistake the undertones.

“Does it really matter?” 

“Well, no not really. But I don’t know why you couldn’t have just told me that originally.” He sighed, trailing his fingers up her arm tiredly.

“I didn’t want to stir anything up.” 

“Stir anything up?”   
  
He tilted his head at him, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone. 

“Well, I know you have mixed feelings about the Gallery-”   
  
“Because I don’t understand why you feel the need to keep going down there. It only brings you bad memories, I see how it affects you.” He explained defensively. “It’s not like anything changes between your visits.”   
  
Sighing, she shifted uneasily underneath him, trying to figure out what she could say to placate him. It felt awful to be lying to him, he did make a valid point. The Gallery did bring her pain, but it also reminded her of everything that made her who she was now. It had brought memories of V. That alone had been worth it to visit every now and then.

“Liam, I can’t explain it. It’s like my own little hideaway, this cove where nobody else can bother me and I can just take a break from the outside world.”    
  
What she said wasn’t necessarily  _ untrue _ , but it wasn’t why she had visited the Gallery earlier that morning.

Rolling over onto his back, he shrugged and nodded. 

“I didn’t think about it like that…”    
  
There was a few moments of silence before he practically sprung up.

“Well hey! Maybe you and I could take our own little break. I know you’re a bit critical of who you bring down there, but maybe it would be nice? We could get away, just the two of us?” He suggested, as if he were trying to make her feel better. She almost felt bad, seeing the hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Frowning, Evey looked away from him. Obviously that wasn’t possible. It was unlikely that V would choose to remain in the Gallery for long, he would disappear off to God knows where...Where even was he staying? No, if she thought about that then she would worry, and she didn’t have the energy to worry right now.   
  
But still, bringing Liam down there was  _ not _ what she considered a good idea.

“No...no I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She laughed away quickly.

“Why not?” He asked, his expression falling.

“It’s just...not. I don’t know, it’s like you said - you know how I am about all that.” 

“Is it about him?”    
  
She knew what  _ ‘him’  _ meant, but given the current circumstances and the timing, she instinctively stiffened beside him, turning to look at him slowly.

  
“What do you mean?”    
  
Did he know somehow? That would be impossible.

He read her features, narrowing his eyes.

“...You’ve always felt like that place is sacred to just you and  _ him _ , is that what you mean?” He asked.

Biting her tongue, Evey blinked and nodded.

“I suppose, yeah.”   
  
Her heart was racing in her chest, afraid that her reactions were going to betray her. Like she said before, she was a terrible liar. To make things worse she was in a particularly vulnerable state as of late.

“What aren’t you telling me?” He spoke slowly, confused.

_ Oh bloody hell... _

Fear stuck her to the bed, unrelenting in it’s sudden hold on her. Why was she so afraid? Couldn’t she just tell him the truth? Part of her wanted to, badly.

“He isn’t…” She shook her head, wanting to deny him, wanting to stop him before the words left his tongue. “... _ alive _ or something?” He spoke so slowly as if waiting for her to disprove his suggestion, to call him crazy.

Her worried gaze held with his for a long time before she sighed and looked away, her chest falling in defeat.

Making a scoffing noise in shock, Liam blinked.

“What? V is alive? How is that possible - I mean, is this new? Did you just find out? Is it some kind of imposter?” He babbled his charade of questions and she waved him off.

“No, no...it’s him, I don’t know how…but it is.” She confirmed.

He moved to sit up, running strong fingers through his hair as he stared around the room, clearly grappling with the news. In truth, she hadn’t known how he would react, she hadn’t expected such a plethora of questions. She sat up with him, bunching the sheets at her chest as she moved to swing her legs around the edge of the bed. 

He looked to her, tilting his head as his expression calmed. 

“So that’s why you’re so upset?” His tone had returned from shocked to neutral, more curious again. 

Standing, she awkwardly bent to grab her undergarments from the floor, slipping them on as she spoke. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Liam.” 

  
  
His lips thinned, his gaze hardening in concern -- or was it something else? She couldn’t be sure from the quick glance she spared him. 

“Well clearly it  _ is _ about that then...Oh Evey…” His voice laced with sympathy for her. She rounded on him, giving him a hard stare.

“Look, it’s been a stressful morning, can we please just drop it?” She begged.

“He lied to you for the entire year?” 

  
  
She scowled, her chest tightening at the reminder.

“Was he even happy to see you? How did you even...find him?” Liam pressed on.

Waving a hand through the air angrily, the need to ramble compelled her to speak.

“Eric.” She told him flatly, to which he nodded slowly in thought. “I don’t know what V was feeling, I didn’t give him much room to talk with how much I was yelling at him.” 

Yanking on her pants, she watched from the corner of her eye as Liam too began to move from the bed to redress himself. 

“Well he must’ve told you something about his intentions.”   
  
Why did it matter? Liam and her often spoke about each other’s lives but never about V -- especially since she’d originally tried to establish that she didn’t want to talk much about it.

“No, he didn’t.” She lied firmly.

“Oh c’mon Evey,” He jabbed at her, gesturing in annoyance. “You told me this guy never ran out of things to say and now he’s suddenly gone silent?” 

  
  
“He expressed worry for my safety, alright? That’s pretty much it.”

  
  
Liam paused, regarding her carefully, the atmosphere in the room changed as she shimmied her shirt on, though she couldn’t determine why.

“If he’s worried...then why hasn’t he been here for you? Everyone else who cares about you has been here, supporting you.” He pointed out. 

She stiffened, closing her hands into fists as she stared at the ground. Another painful reminder. Liam’s words suggested exactly what he feared, that V didn’t truly care about her otherwise he wouldn’t have gone about this the way he did. He was simply making excuses for his own behavior, and even if his intentions were true...Why had he needed to lie to her?

  
“I don’t know…”

  
  
“Evey...I know this is hard. I know he was important to you, but based on what you told me about him...his behavior has always been rather  _ questionable.”  _

_ One of the  _ **_many_ ** _ words I’d used to describe it… _

“I don’t think he means well for you, and I’m not saying that to try and get at him but Evey, you were a wreck for so long. If he knew that, and still stayed away? That isn’t someone you want in your life.” He advised, his voice smooth and captivating.    
  
Evey pursed her lips bitterly, her anger from earlier reigniting in her chest but not towards Liam, towards V. This wasn’t the first time V had betrayed her, and she doubted it would be the last. She had told him to stay away from her, and she prayed he would heed her words.

Sighing, she hugged herself with her arms as Liam finally finished dressing. He rounded the bed slowly, noting her thoughtful posture before he tilted her chin up to look at him. 

“He doesn’t care about you, but there are others who do.” He soothed, leaning down to press another kiss to her lips, his lips almost bruising hers. 

She frowned at him, sadness gleaming in her eyes as she considered this. She didn’t respond though, only gave a single nod before moving past him to the kitchen. He followed her briskly. 

“If he’s staying at the Gallery-”   
  
“He isn’t, I don’t know where he stays.” She admitted, her voice short with annoyance. She was ready to be done with the conversation. 

“Well maybe he needs to stop hiding underground anyways, I won’t deny he did powerful things for the country...It could use that, even now. Maybe he would listen to you on that?”    
  
She looked at him, considering this. Evey also believed that the people still needed him, and it was reassuring to hear Liam say the same. V was a brutal mastermind, he had control of every situation and was a formidable threat all on his own. 

Maybe she  _ should _ try to convince him to reappear to the public, right? His very existence would make a statement. It had the potential to draw more Norsefire rebels out of hiding too, so that they could be apprehended.

It was something to think about, and something she would discuss with Finch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to comment on any thoughts !! they keep me goin and I appreciate every single one <3


	11. Confliction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would yall believe I actually have the next two chapters already written out. I've been on a roll lately but I don't want to publish them all at once, and I gotta go through them again anyways. But I am super excited!!
> 
> This is a relatively short chapter, but important on the lowkey. Just a little POV for V on his thoughts.
> 
> As always, none of these characters belong to me I am simply playing with them. Enjoy!

His hands came to the mask, fingers brushing through the wig to undo the ties. Just as he did a knock sounded at the door and he stiffened, head slowly turning towards the direction of the noise. 

Rising to his feet from the bed, V composed himself, his mind elsewhere as he just stood there for a moment. 

“V.” 

  
  
Oddly enough, V hated the use of his name in such a casual format. It was one thing to be declared in bitterness, to be announced across open speakers, to be a desperate plea. Evey was the exception, his identity falling from her lips felt like a sweet beckoning. 

A gloved hand brought the door open and he was face to face with an old friend, a former confidant and contact.

The pair simply watched, reading each other in a dreadful silence. One didn’t want to speak first and the other didn’t much want to speak at all.

“What happened -- you’re here later than expected.” 

  
  
“I presumed you wouldn’t be stumbling about at this hour.” V replied flatly. “My apologies.”

  
  
He didn’t want to be making apologies, his tone made that clear, but the two had an unspoken agreement. They were fugitives in hiding, the both of them and they had to adhere to certain rules. There was no bitterness between them, in fact V would dare suggest that they had learned to trust each other, to confide in each other.

“At least you’re back in one piece.” The other laughed.

Humming in amused agreement, V nodded. 

“The last twenty-four hours have proved quite eventful.” He confessed, his voice consistently neutral. 

“I take it you were right about the insurgence?”    


  
_ Insurgence _

_ What a peculiar term to use on cowardly Norsefire loyalists. _

V’s mission for years had been to watch Norsefire burn, to take his revenge on all of those who had contributed. His only regret was his inability to take them  _ all. _

“Indeed, Mr. Dietrich.” He scowled lowly.

Gordon Dietrich. 

Fate had been arguably kind to him. The pair had known each other well before Evey had ever walked into his life. Both were collectors of art, literature, treasures banned by Sutler. It had been inevitable that their paths would cross, and it had of course been V’s own choice to try and make an ally out of Gordon. Though the two had rarely convened -- until Evey.

Gordon had been a reliable contact, and a link to the world above when V needed.

Upon Evey’s betrayal, it had been at the hands of fate that she would happen to run straight to Gordon’s doorstep. Initially, he had been enraged, knowing he couldn’t allow her to roam. He had struggled between leaving her to fend for herself, to  _ deal _ with her himself, or to help her. 

Instead he had only kept tabs on her, Gordon assuring him of her safety. 

She wasn’t foolish enough to leave Gordon’s estate without a plan, and that was something they took advantage of. Eventually, she would need to be brought back to the Gallery, to keep herself and his secrets safe - her protests be damned. V couldn’t bring himself to let her go, no, they were now intertwined. Her betrayal at the Church had wounded him, fueling his fire and bringing to light some ideas that would’ve been better off buried. 

V was anything if not vengeful, and that didn’t exclude Evey.

Perhaps that was what had convinced him, what he prompted him to conceive the ultimate lie, the ultimate betrayal -- to give her an unforgettable lesson, to put her where he had once been. But he had eventually done away with that urge to use her suffering as a means to achieve the satisfaction of revenge. It had turned into a lesson, but not one that stemmed from malice.

He had never wanted her to suffer, not truly.

_ ‘Malice sucks up the greatest part of its own venom, and poisons itself.’ _

His malice had poisoned his soul long ago.

Her imprisonment  _ had  _ to happen for several reasons, that was what he had told himself. In the end he had been right, and he knew over time she’d come to accept it, accept  _ him.  _

When Mr. Dietrich’s uncensored episode had aired, V had been forced to spring into action sooner than anticipated. His timing had been nothing less of a miracle, his disguise flawless as he littered Gordon’s front lawn with Fingermen once Creedy had made his exit. Together they had plotted an alternative, hiding Gordon at the Gallery itself until V could settle him somewhere else with a new life, a new identity.

A favor that Gordon was now repaying in kind.

The both of them laying low, hidden away in a common flat amongst the lower levels of London. They were inconspicuous, that was how it had to be. That worked just fine for V. 

Especially given that he had never expected any of this to happen. His survival had been another miracle of fate that he didn’t question, what would be the point?

In some ways, he mourned the path fate had chosen for him. He should have died on that train, and he knew it would’ve been better that way. A grand finale, a final conclusion to his legendary existence. It was an ending that befitted him. 

But apparently it wasn’t to be. 

He couldn’t describe how it happened, just like the fires at Larkhill, the loss of his memories and the altercations to his cells, it had all massed into a blur. 

What mattered was that he was here now. Clearly the Angel of death had declared his work unfinished, had gifted him with new purpose. He had never discovered a clear answer as to why, what his purpose could possibly be. 

Until Evey.

She was the priority now. 

He argued to himself that her life was valuable to the cause, that she needed to be protected in order to help the country thrive. But he knew that, in part, he watched over her because he loved her. 

He loved her deeply.

The thought of anyone bringing her harm, of killing her...Stricken anger and fear tore at him just imagining it. On every natural level, the idea that Evey could die before V  _ actually _ met his end felt wrong. How was that the ending she deserved? He would never allow it as long as he was standing.

As if reading his stillness, Gordon raised a brow, noting the prolonged silence.

“What happened?” It wasn’t a question that asked V to recall everything that had occurred, his question implied that something had gone  _ differently _ than V had expected.

V considered ignoring the question, he considered dismissing it-

“We spoke.” 

  
  
Gordon’s eyes widened, somehow unsurprised but curious all the same. 

“I imagine she wasn’t pleased, if anything I imagine she threw quite a fit.” He suggested, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

V gave a curt nod, his shoulders sagging as he recalled the interaction. A sudden sense of exhaustion washed through him, begging him to retire.

“She’ll come around.”

  
  
_ Perhaps. _

If he was being honest, discussing Evey was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Not while everything was so fresh in his mind, this being the one thing he had never trained himself to prepare for. What happened had happened, and V couldn’t change it. He could only continue to do what he felt needed to be done. 

  
  
He had  _ always  _ done what he felt was needed.

V’s silence seemed to only encourage Gordon to speak again.

“She  _ will  _ forgive you, you must know that.” His voice was kind, something that V oddly appreciated. In another life, a normal life, he imagined he and Gordon would’ve been close friends. But there was no point in dwelling over that thought.

“‘ _ The quality of mercy is not strain’d.’”  _ V sighed, “I don’t seek her forgiveness, though it would make things far easier.” 

  
  
It was then that V finally allowed himself to sound tired, he was utterly exhausted. His conflicting conversation with Evey had rattled him, shaving his resolve with her rejection. She had seemed so sure of herself, and had he been anyone else he would’ve been proud to see her stand her ground. 

He had expected her anger, he would be a fool to expect any sort of open-armed welcome. She could claim she hated him, but he would never believe it. She’d be lying through her teeth.

They were parallels of each other, they had played significant roles in each other’s lives. He had fallen in love with her, and he was sure she held love for him as well. Not romantically, he would never arrogantly hope for that, but she cared for him. She had wept when he’d fallen in her arms, she had continued to fight for what he believed in. He still mattered to her if he could guess based on the intensity of her emotions during their confrontation.

  
  
She had immortalized him.

“Yes, well, she is rather stubborn.” Gordon chuckled, and oddly enough the comment brought a low chuckle out of V too.

Evey was the most stubborn person he’d ever met, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything. 

Exchanging small words, V bid Gordon a good night and retired back into his private room. Their flat was modest, but it suited V just as long as it provided privacy. He could come and go as he pleased, slipping into the night without notice. 

He was still dead to the world, dead to almost everyone.

Except Evey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is important to note that my inspiration for Gordon's survival comes directly from PEAhopeless's universe of V for Vendetta shorts. I always believed that it was entirely plausible for Gordon and V to be in connection with each other in the film -- but the idea of V rescuing Gordon from the Fingermen was a brilliant concept in my opinion. 
> 
> He will unfortunately not be very important/prevalent in this fic as far as I'm aware. 
> 
> As always, feel free to comment any thoughts or questions!


	12. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovelies :)
> 
> I've been writing so much lately and I like to space updates out but I figured I should go ahead and release this chapter -- next chapter get more V and Evey!! Super excited to share it with you all
> 
> hope you enjoy! as always, I do not own any of these characters I am just playing with them

Even time couldn’t help her to control her thoughts, it wouldn’t allow her to simmer or find any sort of release. 

V was stuck in her head like a thorn in her side.

The taunting reminder that he had deceived her so deliberately only grinded against her already weakened patience. She was crawling out of her skin trying to get to Finch. Evey was technically still on medical leave for the next day or so, but then back to work she went. As if everything was normal, but the rest of her colleagues weren’t burdened with the knowledge that V - the infamous anarchist who blew Parliament to hell - was still alive.

That didn’t keep her away from the offices though, Evey was adamant in seeing Finch as quickly as possible. He was the only one she could really trust with  _ everything  _ concerning V. She had even dressed properly for the occasion — her beige trench coat fluttering as she walked, her blush pink blouse and thin slacks fitting just right. The click of her heels was unmistakable as she marched down the corridor past several windowed offices.

She didn’t hesitate as she came upon Finch’s blurred windows, his name printed out across the door. Her hand reached for the handle and she threw the door open, eyes searching for him. 

Finch and Dominic were both situated inside the office, huddled near a computer and discussing — something. 

“Evey? What’re you doing here?”

She stopped, shutting the door more softly behind her. Without a word she lifted a brow and crossed her arms, giving him a hard stare.

The two officers exchanged knowing glances and Finch turned his chair towards her. 

“Eric,” Just like that her demeanor dropped upon seeing her friend, the friend that knew everything that plagued her. Despite his harsh and tired exterior, he was rather caring. Collapsing into a chair lining the wall, she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

She had absolutely  _ no idea  _ what to do. 

How did one even react to a situation like this? The situation being the unbelievable survival of a masked vigilante who she’d believed dead for a year. That thought just kept replaying in her head like a broken record. Not to mention all the other important details that contributed to the emotional turmoil this had brought her. 

Dominic looked to Finch, then to Evey, then to Finch. 

“Wait — does she?” 

Finch nodded, causing his partner to blink in surprise. 

“Bloody hell, how is he?” 

_ Wha- why does he seem so excited about V’s wellbeing? Why does that even matter right now? _

Finch batted at his partner for the insensitivity, shooing him, or perhaps silencing him. 

“Sorry, Evey, he’s been rather  _ intrigued _ by the whole situation.” 

She sighed, burying her head in her hands while dismissing the entire interaction. She didn’t care about Dominic or his boyish adorations right now, her thoughts centered on V and her predicament. 

The problem was that she had beat herself up so much over this situation only to realize that she didn’t necessarily have any decisions to make — did she? Why was this such a big deal? 

_ Because you care, because you missed him, because you’re acting like a bloody idiot. _

She couldn’t run back to him, to let herself fall into his arms like she was some love stricken damsel in distress. That wasn’t who she was and it would feel like a betrayal to her character…

“Evey?”

Finch snapped her away from her thoughts, had he said something else to her? She suddenly felt foolish for losing her focus.

“What happened with him?” He sounded so serious, it only made another wave of nausea roll through her. She had to accept that this was real, that she wasn’t dreaming, that she had  _ options.  _ If anything, the fact that V was practically stalking her from the shadows was something that needed to be dealt with. Evey blinked, wondering if he had been following her here. 

“What do you think? I let him have it, I didn’t know what else to do...I  _ still  _ don’t! He’s a bloody liar and I—“ 

Her shoulders sagged as she released a breath.

“I don’t know whether to kill him or kiss him.” It was a metaphor of course, he didn’t deserve her affections...but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to offer them. Finch understood, and that was good enough for her. Still, it felt wrong on several levels to struggle with her emotions concerning him so deeply. 

As much as she hated admitting it, she had been given a second chance with him. Another chance to see what could have been, to see him  _ without  _ the driving purpose of the Fifth. Who was he without his mission? The mission that had shaped who he was now?

Groaning to herself she hunched over in the seat dramatically. 

“What do the both of you think?” She asked, lifting her head to look at them, wide eyed.

Finch’s lips thinned and he gave a deep sigh, clasping his hands together in thought. 

“I can’t make that decision for you Evey, all I know is that it’s imperative for him to stay out of sight. I can’t interfere with any personal conflicts between the both of you, but if he draws attention up here -- I’ll have no choice.” He told her.

Dominic scoffed and looked back and forth between them. 

“What? Inspector, don’t you think that’s a bit counterproductive?”

Evey’s eyes flickered up to him, she wasn’t close with Dominic but she knew him well enough. She trusted him, and even  _ she  _ was perplexed by Finch’s statement.

“No, I don’t. If he comes back into the public eye now, it’ll only cause more chaos. And that’s the  _ last  _ thing we need right now.” 

“But he’s  _ useful _ , he has skills that we can’t achieve as a group. He could either force those Norsefire stowaways back into hiding or draw them out so we can apprehend them!” 

He made a fair argument, though Evey wasn’t fond of how he worded it. V wasn’t simply some asset to be used at beck and call. He may deny it but he was a man, with more to his life than some violent purpose. 

But in a way Dominic was right. There was only one flaw in his logic. 

“He’ll never go for that.” 

Her stern voice drew both their eyes. 

“At least, I don’t think he will.” She spoke, suddenly uncertain. 

“I think he will if  _ you  _ ask him.” Dominic suggested.

“No,  _ no!  _ I’m not even entertaining this idea, the both of you!” Finch cut in irritably. “You aren’t thinking logically. V isn’t some super hero, he turned this country upside down and he can’t control any sort of uprising his presence may start..” 

“Besides, the public wouldn’t even believe it, they’d throw it around like some conspiracy.” He huffed.

Evey nodded slowly, Finch was right as well. And she knew V wasn’t the type to follow their ideals. He wasn’t a man for hire, and he didn’t do things unless he felt they were necessary.

His own vendetta was what had mattered for a time. 

V now claimed it was her safety that had drawn him back into the fray…

“I’m still going to talk to him about it regardless, I want his opinion. I don’t believe he’d try to reveal himself to the public — but I do think he could do some good…”

Just as she had stated, that meant talking to him again. It was something she wasn’t looking forward to yet couldn’t get her mind off of. In fact her subconscious was practically jumping at any chance for an excuse to see him. Her anger had not subsided, if anything she was filled with unease but also the longing to be around him.

It was funny sometimes, the way people would talk about him...Like he was some sort of myth or legend. She supposed he was, with his strength and speed. Of course, V had never distinctly told her how he performed such feats, and she had only ever seen him in action once...But she felt proud of him, intimidated yet comforted by the intensity of his actions.

Finch ran a hand down his face, scratching at his chin while he looked away. The conflict in the air was palpable, and she felt like there was more to it. 

“What is it?” She whispered, straightening herself in the chair. 

“I just don’t trust him is all...Not with  _ you _ , not with  _ this _ , he’s too unpredictable.”

Under different circumstances she might have been offended, she might have rushed to his defense. But right now she couldn’t help but agree with him. V had shattered her trust, and as for Finch, well, she didn’t think the Inspector had ever had a grain of trust for V. 

Not to mention that  _ unpredictable  _ was V’s middle name, she would never deny that fact. He always had a way of surprising people, he was cunning and clever. 

“I...understand.” She agreed. “He’s apparently taken to prowling about on  _ my  _ behalf.” 

Raising a brow, Finch’s gaze returned to Evey and he too straightened up. 

“I knew it — I bloody knew it.” He almost smirked, his tone was cautiously amused. Evey looked to Dominic in confusion and he simply shrugged and nodded. 

“What do you mean  _ you knew _ ?”

“I mean that all of this seems to be due to his interest in you. V isn’t someone you find, he’s someone who  _ allows  _ you to find him. When he confronted me, it was clearly on your ‘behalf’. He wanted information about the gala.” Finch explained, gesturing knowingly. 

Evey’s brows furrowed together in thought, connecting the dots. 

“The gala…He was there, wasn’t he?” She asked softly.

Finch nodded, figuring there was no point in lying now. 

Bringing a hand to her throbbing head, Evey sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. This man really was taking years off her life with all the stress. They must’ve been so close, and she never would have known.

“I don’t think he's going to be much interested in talking with us?” Dominic asked slowly, a pinch of hope in his voice that V might cooperate.

Evey stared at the ground for a moment, thinking about it all before shaking her head. 

“No, I have to talk with him.”

_ But when?  _

Finch eyed her, shaking his head in disappointment, but he wouldn’t continue to fight her. He couldn’t put her under watch, and Evey would do as she pleased when it came to the masked man. 

“There’s…also one more thing.” Evey uttered slowly, like she was a child about to confess that they had broken an expensive lamp while playing. It was better to let Finch know  _ now  _ rather than later. It was also something she knew she’d have to confess to V, which she was not looking forward to. It had been a drastic mistake on her part, but she hadn’t realized what that mistake entailed until later.

“I told Liam.”    
  
Finch pinched his eyes shut, holding himself from speaking out for a few moments as he collected his thoughts. But his reaction was warranted, and even Dominic licked his lips and looked down -- unwilling to add his input to the situation. 

“Evey...Do you realize how dangerous that is.” 

  
  
She bit the inside of her cheek, recognizing her subtle betrayal as she hung her head low in thought. Last time she had revealed V’s presence it had almost gotten him killed.

How could she have forgotten about that? Even to Liam, someone she cared for and trusted...The thought of telling him shouldn’t have even crossed her mind.

“I do, and I regret it...But Liam can’t do anything about it, not on a higher level anyway. He doesn’t work with this government, and he wouldn’t betray my trust.” She tried to reason with Finch, or perhaps more so herself.

There was silence and Evey felt a dread rush through her, knowing that this conversation with V was going to be even less pleasant...The realization of what she’d done was not only painful but shameful. She was smarter than this, wasn’t she? In any other situation she might have run  _ to  _ V for advice, for comfort. He always seemed to know the answer, always confident in his approach to everything. 

“I’m going to have to put him under watch, I barely have the men to spare but until we sort this out more -- we can’t trust him.” He muttered tiredly, trying not to guilt her too much with his tone.

“Is that really necessary? I’m not defending him but, I know you have no likeness towards him. I know him better, and I don’t think he--”

  
  
“Evey, as someone looking from the outside in, there’s something wrong about him. Maybe it’s just a hunch, but I’ve learned to stop believing in false feelings. And unfortunately, this isn’t up for debate with you, he  _ will  _ be put under surveillance.” 

  
  
Evey’s lips thinned, and she was about to argue further until it dawned upon her that if he had nothing to hide there would be no reason to worry.

So why was she worrying?

“Alright.”

She rose to her feet, signaling the end of the incredibly taxing conversation. She would wait until the evening to seek V out, and she had just the idea on how to find him. 

“Do you need us to do anything else?” Finch asked, rising to his feet. 

“No, but I’ll let you know.” She was grateful for his support, as always. Just as before, she knew she had more to consider, and more to confront V on. She was digging herself a hole, which made it even harder to put V into a corner when she had so openly made her own mistakes too.

Finch came forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“Be safe, please.” 

“I will.” Turning on her heel, Evey strode out the door, glancing back over her shoulder at him before leaving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to comment/review <3


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